


OWtlantis: The Lost Empire

by tiredtiefling



Category: Atlantis: The Lost Empire (2001), Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Atlantis: The Lost Empire Fusion, Atlantis, Atlantis Culture, Betrayal, Comedy, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Developing Friendships, Disney, Exploration, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Human Hammond (Overwatch), Inspired by Atlantis: The Lost Empire (2001), Inspired by Disney, POV Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes, Team Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:28:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29367054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiredtiefling/pseuds/tiredtiefling
Summary: Jamison Fawkes is a down and out, nerdy linguist stuck in a deadend job managing a museum boiler. But luck strikes when an old friend offers him the chance to go on an all-expense-paid expedition to find the lost continent of Atlantis, alongside a colorful team of friends. But as they traverse into the Earth, secrets and mysteries begin to unravel...and what will they find when they reach their destination?A crossover between Overwatch and Atlantis: The Lost Empire (with Overwatch characters transposed into the Atlantis story), and a focus on Junkmetra/Symmrat as a ship.Junkrat is Milo, Symmetra is Kida, and various other characters from the Overwatch universe serve as the other teammates.A few details were altered for this variation - see the chapter notes for more info.
Relationships: Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes/Satya "Symmetra" Vaswani
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	OWtlantis: The Lost Empire

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction was inspired by a gorgeous piece of artwork by @nervmaid on Tumblr/Twitter - you can find the piece here: https://twitter.com/nervmaid/status/1239374831541465089
> 
> This crossover/retelling of Atlantis: The Lost Empire using OW characters is mostly faithful to the original source material, however, a few details were altered, mostly to fit the existing characters.
> 
> Milo, played by Junkrat, now speaks with an Aussie accent/slang. Mole, played by Hammond, is also a human in this story. King Nedakh (the king of Atlantis) and Thaddeus Thatch/Fawkes (Junkrat/Milo's grandpa) are original characters. The Atlanteans also do not have white hair and blue eyes. Lastly, the Atlantean language has been reinterpreted as Hindi for this version. Please let me know if I got any of the Hindi used by the characters wrong so I may correct it!
> 
> Enjoy!

__

* * *

_“...in a single day and night of misfortune, the island of Atlantis disappeared into the depths of the sea.” —Plato, 360 B.C._

* * *

They had tested many experiments out in the ocean before. It was standard practice to keep it far away from the townspeople, the continent was too populated to justify fiddling with science so close to its shores. So the engineers took whatever they were testing next far out into the distant waters, letting the sea be the protection of the island.

And yet it was that very sea that became the doomed prison of Atlantis.

A placid, beautiful afternoon horizon of blue water and partly cloudy skies was suddenly blown apart by an eye-searing flash of light. Mushroom clouds began to form in its wake as slews of Atlanteans flew back towards their home in a panic, chased by the booming explosion.

“ _YOU FOOL! YOU’VE DESTROYED US ALL!_ ” the leader bellowed in fury at a teammate, as the true consequence of the explosion grew only more apparent - a wall of water, hurtling towards the island and only gaining size and strength with each second.

“ _The wave is gaining! We have to warn Atlantis!_ ”

“ _Too late!_ ”

The wave devoured the slower pilots, sucking them into the water and all but vaporizing them in the process. Only the speediest were able to outrun it, flying as fast as they could past rolling green hills of the archipelago, towards the sprawling main city. The wave was so enormous now it began to blot out the sun, plunging Atlantis into darkness as stormy clouds swam across the sky. Already, the beacon atop the center of the metropolis had begun to beam grim red lights into the sky, spanning over the streets.

The sentry of the main watchtower looked out in confusion at the sudden loss of light, and felt his blood drain from his face at the sight of the tsunami. It was already consuming the furthest reaches of the archipelago, and only gaining speed as it rushed closer.

He scrambled to the alarm horn, pulling it down.

“ _EVERYONE TO THE SHELTERS! EVERYONE TO THE SHELTERS!_ ”

The echo-based speakers blasted the warning out as two other sentries quickly grabbed mallets and began to bang upon the gong, continuing the desperate alarm.

The civilians ran in screaming throngs, avoiding crashing pilots around them, frantically grabbing wives and husbands and children and pulling them towards safety, shepherded by other guards.

“ _This way, your highness! Quickly!_ ” one said, gesturing to the king and his wife. They followed suit amongst the crowd, the queen grabbing her distracted daughter’s arm.

“ _Satya, come on!_ ” she said, yanking her hard enough for the princess to drop her treasured toy. She tugged back on her mother’s grip, trying to return for it as the fearful red beams continued their sweep over the streets.

“ _Satya!_ ” the queen begged, falling to her knees and shaking her toddler a bit, “ _Just leave it! There’s no time!_ ”

But she could not finish her sentence before one of the red searchlights fell on her, turning pale blue as it did. The queen turned to look up at it, almost as if compelled, the crystal pendant on her neck hovering into the air. Her eyes turned soulless blue, despairing expression becoming vacant. Her grip on her daughter’s hand stayed, however, even as the little one looked into the sky in terror.

Her father had noticed what was happening, pushing back through the jostling passerby to get back to his wife and child, but it was too late. As the other searchlights converged on the queen in a blazing flash of light, her heavy-lidded eyes falling shut, she began to float. Pulled into the sky, her hold on her daughter’s bracelet pulled it free from the toddler’s wrist.

“ _...mother!_ ” she burst out, trying to grab at the hem of the queen’s dress, but it was too late. Her mother was whisked into the sky, into a glowing orb of white.

“ _Mother!_ ” the princess wailed past tears, falling to the ground and reaching after her hopelessly.

Around the outskirts of the inner city, forcefields of iridescent blue were growing around the perimeter, allowing only a few final civilians to rush in before they were closed off. Pilots crashed into the wall of light in plumes of yellow smoke, and those denizens not fast enough to have made it past banged frantically on the swimming forcefield, in vain hope that it would grant them passage. Most could do little more than hold each other and look up at the destructive wave as it finally bore down on them and the buildings.

“ _MOTHER!_ ” the little princess kept crying, only to be grabbed by her father and swept into his embrace.

“ _Close your eyes, Satya! Look away!_ ” he said, not heeding his own advice as he gazed up at the spinning ball of light that had robbed him of his wife. She buried her face in his chest as the forcefield reached the apex, before a flash of white exploded above them. As the wave fell around the circle of what remained of the country, it began to rapidly sink into the earth amidst flashes of lightning and smoke.

As the sea swam over what had once been a great land, the water finally ceasing its relentless chase, it became deceptively still yet again - almost as if there had never been anything there to begin with.

The ocean had devoured Atlantis.

* * *

  
  


_Washington, D.C. — 1914_

Afternoons at the Washington museum of history were always crowded. Both young and old, posh and simple patrons would crowd around dinosaur bones and ancient pottery to read plaques about long-gone civilizations and intrepid anthropologist explorers who had braved the elements to bring back these artifacts and share them with the modern world. Yet amongst the sea of tophats and bonnets and gloved hands holding canes, one man was not present. He was below the main floors of cuneiform tablets and old paintings, in the basement, reciting a lengthy script to himself.

That was because it was finally the big day - the day when Jamison Fawkes finally would present his proposal to the museum board. It had taken months of trials and tribulations to finally clinch this opportunity, especially with how cynical and frustratingly skeptical they were, and he was ready to ace this presentation. So much so that he had been practicing since morning - this was his third or fourth time running through it from top to bottom, yet again.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” he began, in his Aussie lilt, “First off, I'd like to thank this board for takin’ the time to hear my proposal.”

A shadowy audience looked on as Jamison stood at his podium in front of a map, twiddling a long pointer baton. Beside him was a green blackboard that had some runic symbols on it, and the English lettering ‘Coast of Ireland’ below.

“Now, we've all heard of the legend of Atlantis, a continent somewhere in the mid-Atlantic that was home to an advanced civilization possessin’ technology _far_ beyond our own,” he continued, before tapping a bust of Plato next to him with the baton, “Th-that, according to our friend Plato here was suddenly struck by - by some cataclysmic event that sank it beneath the sea.”

Here he clinked the pointer against his fishbowl, the goldfish inside looking at him quizzically as he dug up some large print flashcards, the frontmost one reading ‘Atlantis’ in script font with a big question mark.

“Now, some of you may ask - why Atlantis? It's just a myth, isn't it? Pure fantasy? _Well_ , that is where you'd be wrong,” Jamie continued, clearly proud of himself as he began to show the next slides depicting various ancient diagrams and artworks, “Ten thousand years before the Egyptians built the pyramids, Atlantis had...electricity! Advanced medicine! Even the power of flight! Impossible, ya say? Well, no! No, not for them.”

He held up pictures of mosaics and carvings, of statues raising their stone hands up to some mythical sunlike structure.

“Numerous ancient cultures all over the globe agree that Atlantis possessed a power source of some kind, more powerful than steam, than - than coal! More powerful than our modern internal combustion engines!”

He smiled wide, tapping his finger on the picture.

“Gentlemen, I propose that we find Atlantis - find that power source - and bring it back to the surface!”

He paused to adjust his glasses before showing his next slide, which showed a copy of an old weathered parchment scroll with faded color diagrams in gold leaf and red and blue. In the corner knelt a man holding a brown volume, surrounded by archaic symbols.

“Now, this is a page from an illuminated text that describes a book called the Shepherd's Journal...said to have been a - a first-hand account of Atlantis and its exact whereabouts.”

Jamie pointed at the bearded, bald monk-like man, drawing a circle with his finger around the book held in his hand.

“Now, based on a centuries-old translation of a Norse text -” he said, wiggling past his podium to his blackboard, “- historians have believed the Journal resides in Ireland.”

He tapped the English subtitle with his chalk before bending to scoop up a heavy wood and metal artifact that had previously leaning against his desk, struggling to hold it aloft.

“But - after - comparin’ the text - to the runes on this Viking shield -!” he strained, “I found that - that - that one of the letters - had been mistranslated!”

He wrestled his sleeve down over his wrist, using it to rub out the ‘r’ in ‘Ireland’.

“So, by changin’ this letter, and insertin’ the correct one, we find that the Shepherd's Journal - the key to Atlantis! - lies NOT in I-Ireland, gentlemen...but in Iceland!”

He wrote a neat ‘c’ in its place, grinning wide.

“Pause for effect…” he murmured to himself, smug, before setting the shield down. “Gentlemen! Uh, I’ll take yer questions now!”

As he fixed his sleeve and adjusted his glasses, the piercing ring of his phone suddenly resounded from behind the blackboard. Wincing awkwardly, Jamison apologetically waved his hands to his audience.

“Oh, would ya gentlemen please excuse me fer a moment?” he said sheepishly, before clambering over his blackboard, lying on it on his stomach to reach the phone.

“Cartography and Linguistics, Jamison Fawkes speakin’!” he said confidently, only to feel his smile droop as the yapping of his caller bore into his ear, “Yeah, yeah...yeah, just a second…”

Jamie pulled himself back over the now-spinning blackboard and turned on the lights via pull-cord, the basement’s incandescent lamps now illuminating his ‘audience’ and revealing them to be nothing more than old artifacts and display pieces decked out in hats and scarves. He clambered over the books and desks, scooting some of the masks and skeletons aside.

“Uh, pardon me, Mister Winston,” he joked to himself as he reached the boiler control panel at the back of his ‘office’, twisting the knobs and dials until it made a hiss and growled in response. He gave it a firm rap with a wrench before returning to the phone.

“How’s that? Is that better?”

More angry ranting. Something that sounded like ‘don’t let it happen again’.

“...uh-huh. Yeah. Y-you’re welcome. Alright. Bye.”

Jamie slid down the blackboard, returning his attention to his presentation.

“Now, as ya can see by th…”

He paused, realizing he had accidentally rubbed his chalk map design off onto his sweater front, an ‘X’ now comedically over his tummy, “...by this, um, map... map, uh, that... that…”

He pulled himself together, standing where the drawing should go and lifting his arms up to be flush with the gridlines.

“Ahem...that I've drawn, I plotted the route that will take meself and a crew to the southern coast of Iceland to retrieve the Journal!”

He walked his fingers along the dotting trail to the ‘X’, nodding in affirmation.

Above him, the cuckoo clock came to life, sounding off four times. Four o’clock.

“Ah! Showtime!” he said, rubbing off the chalk on his stomach before grabbing his various scrolls of diagrams and notes, “Well, this is it! I am _finally_ gettin’ out of the dungeon.”

Before he headed upstairs, however, he stopped at a small altar on the corner of one of his desks, where an old framed sepia picture depicted a much younger version of himself and an elderly man with a thick mustache and an explorer’s getup.

Grandpa Thaddeus Fawkes.

After the death of Jamie’s parents, he had lived with his grandfather since, and Jamie had him to thank for introducing him to the amazing world of archaeology. The two’s shared love for Atlantis had been just one of many topics of conversation the two had had over the years, before Grandpa Fawkes passed on. Jamie could remember this day almost as well as it was yesterday - how Thaddeus had lifted him onto his knee, how he had pleaded for a chance to wear the pith helmet, and how his grandfather had obliged, only for the two to watch as it slid down awkwardly over his eyes. He chuckled at the memory, before opening a special compartment with lattice doors, filled with memorial candles and a little hat stand - there, he had kept the helmet after all these years. He sat it on his head, smiling wide at the feeling - only for it to once again slide down once again. Some things never changed.

_Thunk!_

Jamie lifted the brim, looking over to a mail chute he had fashioned out of a wooden carved head and series of tubes. He pulled a wrapped paper free, opening it.

“‘Dear Mister Fawkes, this is to inform ya that yer meetin’ has been moved up from 4:30pm to 3:30pm.’”

He paled, glancing up at his clock that now read past four.

“...what?!” he burst out.

 _Thunk!_ Another letter. He frantically opened this one too.

“‘Dear Mister Fawkes, due to yer absence, the board has voted to reject yer proposal - have a nice weekend, Maximilien’s office’?!”

He threw down the paper, glasses all but flying off.

“THEY CAN’T DO THIS TO ME!”

Upstairs, the board in question was exiting the meeting room, grumbling to themselves.

“I swear, that young Fawkes gets crazier every year!” Maximilien was saying.

“If I ever hear the word ‘Atlantis’ again, I'll step in front of a bus!” another added.

“Hahaha! I'll push you!”

The group snorted to themselves.

“Mister Maximilien!”

They gasped at the sight of Jamison racing down the slippery tiled hallway towards them, dropping papers and books as he ran.

“Good lord! There he is!”

“Members of the board - uh! Wait -!”

“But how did you find us?!” Maximilien said, as the board scattered.

“Mister Maximilien, wait -!”

“Head for the hills! Where’s a guard when you need one?!” one of the directors said, as they all raced into separate rooms and locked the doors behind themselves, leaving Maximilien with nowhere left to run.

“Mister Maximilien, ya gotta listen to me, sir -!”

He did his best to hide behind a thin decorative plant, which Jamie tried to push the leaves out of the way.

“Uh, sir -?”

Maximilien quickly bonked him over the head with his umbrella before scuttling to the museum exit, where a car was waiting for him. Dropping his stuff left and right, Jamison chased after him, relentless as he barrelled full-force through the rotating doors.

“Wait! Mister Maximilien! Sir, l-I have new evidence that. - please, Mister Maximilien! Stop!”

He all but threw himself into the car window, out of breath.

“Sir, if ya - could ya hold -?”

He shoved the remaining posters and scrolls into Maximilien’s lab as he unrolled one.

“Cheers, cheers, now - look at -!”

Maximilien shoved his face out the window.

“This museum funds scientific expeditions based on facts, not legends and folklore!” he spat, throwing the papers back into Jamison’s arms, “Besides, we need you here. We depend on you!”

Jamie blinked, not expecting the sudden saccharine tone and accompanying headpats.

“Ya do?

“Yes! What with winter coming that boiler's going to need a lot of attention,” Maximilien continued, booping Jamie’s nose.

“Boiler?!”

“Onward!” Maximilien snapped at the driver, who pulled out and began driving away. Refusing to accept no for an answer, Jamison tore after, holding up a copy of his map.

“But there’s - there’s a Journal! It’s in Iceland! I’m sure of it this time!”

Maximilien’s only response was to close the curtains of his window, growling. But even he did not expect Jamison to fully leap onto the front hood of the car, clinging for dear life.

“Sir! I really hoped - it wouldn't come to this -!”

He yanked out a piece of paper, pressing it to the windshield.

“But this is - a letter of resignation -! If ya reject my proposal, I’ll -! WHOA -!”

The driver had veered sharply to one side, throwing Jamie off the car and smashing into the cobblestone street.

“ - I’LL QUIT!” Jamie shrieked after the car. It screeched to a stop, then reversed back to where he was on the ground, Maximilien peering down at him cynically.

“I mean it, sir -!” Jamie panted, “If ya refuse to fund me proposal. I’ll -!”

“You’ll what? Flush your career down the toilet just like your grandfather?!”

As if to add insult to injury, Maximilien wiggled his finger by his temple, making Jamison flinch.

“You have a lot of potential, Jamison. Don't throw it all away chasing fairy tales.”

The backhanded compliment did little to help.

“But I can _prove_ Atlantis exists!” Jamison pleaded. Maximilien scoffed.

“You want to go on an expedition? Here.”

He threw a quarter down onto Jamie’s lap.

“Take a trolley to the Potomac and jump in! Maybe the cold water will clear your head!”

With that, the car drove off, splashing a puddle of filthy water all over Jamie’s sweater and soaking his letter of resignation in the process. He sat there, miserable, in the street as thunder rumbled above, before quietly hauling himself up. He really only had one option now - go home.

So he did, quietly returning to his apartment as the rain set in properly, lightning flashing as the water came down in torrents. His broken umbrella did little to protect him, though he was already wet anyway.

“I’m home,” he moaned tiredly as he nudged open his door, throwing his things to the floor, “Mitzi? Here, kitty.”

He looked around for his big white cat, squinting in the dark. He reached for a lamp, tugging the string, but it seemed the power was out.

A lightning flash illuminated a silhouette at the window, making him jump.

“Jamison Fawkes?” came a seductive woman’s voice as the shadow turned, a busty woman with piercing eyes and long, raven-black hair looking to him. He stared, jaw agape.

“Who...who are ya? H-how did ya get in here?!”

“I came down the chimney - ho. Ho. Ho,” she purred, sinking into his armchair and shrugging her fur coat down enough to expose shoulders and a black dress, “My name is Amélie Lacroix. I am acting on behalf of my employer, who has a most intriguing proposition for you. Are you...interested?”

“Y-yer - yer employer. Huh. Who is yer employer?” Jamie pressed, as more lightning flashed outside.

* * *

Jamison had never ridden in a limo before, nor had he really ever been to the rich side of town where the mansions had driveways that rivaled streets, and backyards were measured in acres, not inches. The iron gates had a big ‘W’ atop them, and an enormous plaque by the entrance read ‘Wilhelm’.

As they pulled up to the entrance, Amélie pushing her fur coat into the hands of a butler, she whistled to keep Jamie’s attention on her and not the expensive paintings and sculptures.

“This way, please. And don’t drip on the Caravaggio.”

He stumbled after her over a long red and gold runner rug, amazed at the high ceilings and roaring fireplace and displays of swords.

“Step lively, Mister Wilhelm does _not_ like to be kept waiting.”

He joined her in an elevator, the lattice door closing behind them as they descended into the lower levels. She pulled him closer, adjusting his glasses, smoothing his hair, and dusting his clothes, though with far less gentleness than a mother would.

“You will address him as Mister Wilhelm, or sir. You will stand unless asked to be seated. Keep your sentences short and to the point. Are we clear?”

Jamison could only gulp in reply, watching the lights dance rhythmically through the bars as the door opened.

“And relax. He doesn’t bite...often.”

Jamison cowered a bit as she returned upstairs, making his way into an enormous basement that made his ‘office’ look like a closet. The only light was that from a fireplace to one side, and a glowing tank with weird, big fish to the other. The haze of orange and blue swam over the ceiling and floor, falling over an oil painting of two men - one who looked incredibly familiar.  
“...grandpa…?” Jamie asked out loud, shocked.

“Finest explorer I ever met!” came a booming voice behind him. He jumped in shock, whipping around to see a man in the dark, lifting weights. He was an astonishing seven foot tall dwarfing even the stocky Jamison, with enormous muscles and scars covered only by a robe, and a missing eye. Yet his white beard framed a jolly smile.

“Reinhardt Wilhelm - pleasure to meet you, Jamison!”

He shook Jamie’s hand with an intense vigor that made the smaller man’s whole body jostle.

“Join me in a little exercise?”

“Uh, no, no, ta. Did ya really know my grandfather?”

“Oh, yes! Met old Thaddeus back in Eichenwalde. Class of ‘66. We stayed close friends until the end of his days!” Reinhardt affirmed as he continued his stretches, “Even dragged me along on some of his ridiculous expeditions. _Er haben nicht alle Tassen im Schrank_ , you know? He spoke of you often.”

“Funny. He...he never mentioned ya,” Jamie said awkwardly.

“Oh, he wouldn't. He knew how much I liked my privacy. I keep a low profile.”

“Mister Wilhelm, should I be wonderin’ why I'm here?” Jamie pressed.

“Look on that table! It’s for you!” Reinhardt said, pointing behind him to a console table by the fireplace. Upon it was a rectangle wrapped in yellow paper and string, with ‘For Jamie, With Love, Grandpa Fawkes’ written atop in blue ink.

“It’s...it’s from my grandfather?”

“He brought that package to me years ago,” Reinhardt said, getting up and flexing, “He said if anything were to happen to him, I should give it to you when you were ready...whatever that means.”

As Jamison unwrapped the paper, his mouth went slack. The brown leather framed with metal. The yellowed parchment pages that smelled faintly of salt. The swirl symbol in the center.

“It...it can’t be…” he breathed, as if speaking too loud would break the spell, slowly removing his glasses in awe, “It’s the Shepherd's Journal…”

Reinhardt had come over, taking a sip of wine from a nearby decanter set.

“M-Mister Wilhelm, this Journal is the key to findin’ the lost continent of Atlantis…!”

“Atlantis? Ha!” Reinhardt chuckled loudly, ducking behind a room divider to dress, “I wasn’t born yesterday, son!”

“Nonono! Look - look at this!” Jamison protested, redonning his glasses and flipping through the delicate pages with a featherlight touch, “Coordinates. Clues. It's all right here!”

“Yeah, looks like gibberish to me,” Reinhardt replied, pointing at the runic lettering.

“That's because it's been written in a - in a dialect that no longer exists.”

“So it's useless.”

“No, nono, just difficult. I've spent my whole life studyin’ dead languages - it's not gibberish to me.”

“Ah, it's probably a fake,” Reinhardt said dismissively as he adjusted his sleeves and tie. Jamison looked over at him somberly, gently setting the volume down.

“...Mister Reinhardt, my grandfather would have known if this were a fake - _I_ would know. I will stake everything I own, everythin’ that I believe in… that this is the _genuine_ Shepherd's Journal…!”

“Alright, alright!” Reinhardt chuckled, making his way over to the fishtank, “So what do you want to do with it?”

Jamison scampered after, clutching the Journal close.

“Well - well, I’ll - I’ll - I’ll get funding! I mean, I’ll - u-uh - the museum -”

“They’ll never believe you.”

“I will SHOW them! I will MAKE them believe!”

“Like you did today?” Reinhardt chuckled snidely.

“Yes -! Wh - well, no - how did ya -?” Jamie began, then facepalmed, “Forget about them, okay?! Never mind! I will find Atlantis on my own! I mean, if I have to rent a rowboat!”

Reinhardt made a wide smile.

“...congratulations, Jamison. This is _exactly_ what I wanted to hear. But forget the rowboat, son!”

He reached over, pressing a button on the table, and from the inside of the metal panelling rose a model set of an impressively massive submarine, with a glowing yellow glass-pane front, surrounded by smaller pods and trucks and all menagerie of exploration tools. Even on such a small scale, it was impressive to behold, illuminated from behind by the blue light of the tank.

“We’ll travel in style.”  
Jamison bent at the waist, studying the minute details, like torpedoes and wiring. He took one piece off, twiddling it in his fingers.

“It’s all been arranged! The whole ball of wax!”

“...why?” Jamison asked aloud, stunned. Reinhardt patted him on the back, leading him along.past the bookshelves and decor.

“For years, your grandfather bent my ear with stories about that old book. I didn't believe it for a minute, so finally I got fed up and made a bet with the old man. I said, ‘Fawkes, if you ever actually find that so-called journal, not only will I finance the expedition, but I'll kiss you full on the mouth!’ ...imagine my embarrassment when he found the damn thing.”

He held up a framed gray photo clearly taken seconds after the act, both old men gagging at the sight. Jamison stifled a laugh.

“Now I know your grandfather's gone, Jamison, God rest his soul...but Reinhardt Wilhelm is a man who keeps his word.”

He pointed up at the photo of the two of them above the fireplace, shaking his fist.

“You hear that, Fawkes? I'm going to the afterlife with a clear conscience, by thunder!”

He laughed a big, booming laugh, that faded into a bitter sigh far too quickly. Jamie watched quietly from a distance, the fire making Reinhardt’s shadow wiggle.

“Your grandpa was a great man,” Reinhardt continued in a low rumble, “You probably don't realize how great. Those buffoons at the museum...dragged him down, made a laughingstock of him. He died a broken man.”

There was an edge of wistfulness about it all.

“If I could bring back just one shred of proof...that would be enough for me. Ah, Fawkes…”

After a moment, he wheeled around to face Jamie again.

“What are we standing around for?! We have work to do!”

Jamison jumped as Reinhardt grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt, carrying him over to another table.

“B-but, Mister Wilhelm, ya know, in - in order to do what you're proposin’, you're gonna need a crew -!”

“Taken care of!” Reinhardt said, depositing him.

“But you'll need engineers, and, and geologists, and -”

“Got them all, best of the best,” Reinhardt continued, spreading out a stack of profile sheets with pictures and statistics and all sorts of information.

“Hammond Bradley Baker, geology and excavation. The man has a nose for dirt. Mako Rutledge, demolitions. Busted him out of an Australian prison. Hana Song, don't let her age fool you. She knows more about engines than you or I will ever know. They're the same crew that brought the Journal back.”

“Where was it?” Jamie asked. He had to know. Reinhardt smiled, plopping a photo of the crew down on the table, with Grandpa Fawkes in the middle, holding the ledger in full view.

“Iceland.”

“I knew it! _I knew it!_ ” Jamie squealed.

“All we need now...is an expert in gibberish.”

Jamie’s eyes widened, realizing he was that expert, as Reinhardt made his way back to the table, taking a seat.

“So, it’s decision time. You can build on the foundation your grandfather left you, or you can go back to your boiler room.”

Jamie studied the photograph, at the smiling faces surrounding his grandfather, before he sank into a chair.

“...this is fer real…?”

“Now you’re catching on!”

“...I - alright. Okay. I - I-I’ll have to quit me job -”

“It's done. You resigned this afternoon.”

“...I did?”

“Yep. Don't like to leave loose ends.”

“Um, me apartment, I have to give notice -”

“Taken care of.”

“Me clothes?”

“Packed.”

“Me books?”

“In storage.”

“Me cat?”

Before Reinhardt could respond to that one, Jamie heard a miaow over his shoulder, and a familiar heavy weight of white fur slid into his lap.

“Hooley dooley…” he mumbled, stroking Mitzi.

“Your grandfather had a saying - ‘our lives are remembered by the gifts we leave our children’,” Reinhardt said gently, coming over to Jamie and pushing the book into his hands, “This journal is his gift to you, Jamison. Atlantis is waiting. What do you say?”

He held up a jacket, waiting with a grin. Jamison hesitated, then snatched it up.

“I'm yer bloke, Mister Wilhelm! Ya will not regret this!”

In his haste, he pulled the trenchcoat on backwards.

“Gosh, I am so excited, I-I-I-I can't even hold it in -!”

* * *

It was a little nerve-wracking to be on a ship that rivalled the Titanic in size as they sailed out to the necessary coordinates to drop the sub, what with said Titanic sinking so horrendously just two years prior. Of course, any time Jamie had to be nervous about the ocean liner blazing through the water was quickly devoted to violently ejecting his lunch off the side of the boat. At least the view of purple clouds and pink skies was nice.

“Carrots…” he mumbled, a definite shade of green now, “Why is always carrots, I didn’t even eat carrots…”

He gagged, wiping his mouth, as a sour female voice resounded over the PA system.

“Attention. All hands to the launch bay.”

Jamie grabbed his duffel bag and traipsed into the inner bowels of the ship, looking around for someone with a clipboard or maybe a little signup station, but everyone was busy preparing themselves for the mission, moving supplies around, soldering machinery. He wandered around a little aimlessly as the announcer continued, voice sardonic and monotone.

“To whoever took the ‘L’ from the Motor Pool sign, ha ha, we are all very amused,” she said, audibly unamused.

“Uh, excuse me?” Jamie ventured to someone who had their back to him, “I need to, uh...report in?”

“Yes, Mister Fawkes,” said a familiar voice as the person turned. It was the blackhaired woman from before, Amélie.

“A-agh -!” he jumped, “It’s you -!”

She opened her mouth to reply before a thick Southern twang came from behind her.

“Frenchie! I got a bone to pick with you!”

Amélie rolled her eyes.

“Hold that thought,” she told Jamie, before turning and folding her arms, “What is it this time, McCree?”

“You done stuffed my wagon full t’bustin’ non-essentials!” the cowboy protested, “Look at all this! Cinnamon, oregano, cilantro - what in the cockadoodle is cilantro?”

Jamie opened his mouth to correct him that it was not pronounced ‘sigh-lantro’, then thought better of it as the miffed man threw the box of spices aside.

“What IS this?” McCree said, holding up a green head of lettuce.

“That would be lettuce,” Amélie sighed, shoving it away.

“Lettuce?! _Lettuce?!_ ”

“It’s a _vegetable_ , McCree. The men need the four basic food groups.”

“I got yer four basic food groups!” McCree hissed, “Beans, bacon, whiskey, ‘n’ lard!”

An alarm started up above them, red lights flashing a warning signal that it was time to depart.

“Alright, cowboy, pack it up and move it out!” Amélie snapped, shoving McCree’s hat over his eyes and stomping off.

“Attention. All hands to the launch bay. Final loading in progress.”

Jamie quickly followed her down to a large elevator pad with dozens of others, heading down to the launch bay. There, the enormous sub was waiting for them, insanely massive in person even compared to the model Jamie had seen before. He stared up at it, eyes wide, until someone bumped into his back, causing something to fall past him.

“Hey, ankle-biter, if you’re lookin’ fer the pony rides, they’re back there.”

He looked behind him and started in surprise - yet another insanely tall man, this one as big as Reinhardt and at least twice as wide, was peering owlishly down at him through a gasmask. He was wheeling a large stack of boxes and crates past him.

“A-ah, excuse me! Excuse me -!” Jamie said, bending to pick up whatever had fallen, “Ya dropped yer dy...dy...dyna...mite…”

Realizing he was holding an explosive, he laughed nervously and held it gingerly back to the man he presumed was named Rutledge.

“What else have ya, uh, got in there..?”

“Oh, eh, gunpowder, nitroglycerin, notepads, fuses, wicks, glue, and...paper clips. Big ones.”

He held his huge hands a foot apart from each other to emphasize this.

“You know, just, uh, office supplies.”

“Jamie! Where’ve you been!”

It was Reinhardt - grateful for the excuse, Jamison raced over to greet him.

“I’d like you to meet Commander Antonio Bartalotti. He led the Iceland team that brought the Journal back.”

The broad man standing next to Reinhardt smiled politely, shaking Jamie’s hand.

“Jamison Fawkes. Pleasure to meet the grandson of old Thaddeus. I see you got that Journal. Nice pictures, but I prefer a good Western myself.”

Jamie made a forced smile, looking up at the submarine as it was loaded.

“Pretty impressive, eh?” Reinhardt chuckled, elbowing him.

“Boy, when ya settle a bet, y-ya settle a bet,” Jamie said.

“Well, your grandfather always believed you couldn't put a price on the pursuit of knowledge.”

“Well, uh, believe me, this'll be small change compared to the value of what we're gonna learn on this trip!”

“Yes, this should be enriching for all of us,” Antonio added with a nod.

“Attention, all personnel - launch will commence in fifteen minutes.”

Antonio saluted to Reinhardt with a nod.

“Mister Wilhelm.”

“Bartalotti!” Reinhardt returned the gesture.

“It’s time.”

Jamison chased after the commander, waving goodbye frantically over his shoulder.

“Bye, Mister Wilhelm!”

“Make us proud, boy!” he called back as the heavy doors shut behind them.

“Rig ship for dive!” the diving officer instructed.

“Aye, sir! Rig ship for dive,” the chief of the watch affirmed, as crewmates pressed buttons, turned hatch knobs, and readied for departure.

“Lieutenant, take her down,” Antonio nodded to Amélie.

“Diving officer, submerge the ship. Make the depth 1-5-0 feet,” she barked.

“Make the depth 1-5-0 feet! Dive, dive! Five degrees down bubble! Take us down!”

The warning alarm buzzed as the chains released the sub into the body of water below and it began its steady sink into the depths. Reinhardt watched, waving goodbye to the orange panes in front. The submarine continued down, Jamie watching from the front deck through the glass as enormous bubbles undulated like jellyfish past them.

They were on their way.

* * *

“Attention, tonight’s supper will be baked beans. Musical program to follow,” the announcer, whose name was Moira, was saying over the intercom. After a pause, she added a sardonic, “Who wrote this…”

Jamie had found his way to his quarters, tossing his bag and coat aside and stretching. It was hardly luxurious living, four men cramped to two metal bunkbeds, but the mattress was comfy enough. Someone had already taken the top bunk, so he slid into the bottom, hoping to relax and rest his eyes a little.

Something was moving. Miniscule particles fell on him, as suddenly a piercing light bore into his eyes. He jumped in surprise, ramming his head into the bottom of the upper bunk.

“Hey -!”

“You have disturbed the dirt…” hissed a feral voice, peering at him from the top bed.

“Uh, pardon me -?”

“You have disturbed the dirt!” squeaked the man, leaping down and yanking Jamison off the bed, pulling the blanket aside to reveal piles of soil littering the sheets with little country flags stuck into them. Jamie did not know what to react to first - the filth in his bed, or the fact that he could not tell if this frantically chittering man with a shock of ginger hair he was speaking to was not a giant sapient hamster.

“Dirt from around the globe, spanning the centuries!” he gasped shrilly, “What have you done? Australia must never merge with New Zealand!”

He hurriedly separated the two piles.

“W-what's it doin' in me bed?!” Jamie burst out.

“You ask too many questions! Who are you? Who sent you? Speak up!”

“Me? I'm, uh -!”

“Bah! I will know soon enough.”

The man grabbed at Jamie’s hand, wrestling it closer and pulling out a pair of tweezers.

“Hey, hey, hey! Let go -!” Jamie yelped, trying to yank free in panic at whatever this weirdo was planning to do to him.

“Don’t be such a crybaby! Hold still!” he snarled, before grabbing something from under Jamie’s nail, “Aha! There you are. Now tell me your story, my little friend.”

He zoomed in close with a pair of mechanical goggles, studying the debris.

“Parchment fiber from the Nile, circa 500 B.C. Lead pencil, number two. Paint flecks of a type used in government buildings. You have a cat, short-haired Persian, two years old, third in a litter of seven.”

Jamie stared, aghast.

“There are all the microscopic fingerprints of the mapmaker.”

He paused to lick the sample, narrowing his eyes.

“And... _linguist_.”

He delivered this word with particular venom.

“Hey, how did ya -?!”

“This is an outrage! You must leave at once!”

He threw Jamie’s coat back in his face, pushing the duffel bag into his arms and trying to expel him from the room with fierce shoves.

“Out, out, out, out, out!”

The two could not get very far, however, as Jamie found himself shoved into the chest of a tall man with dark skin and a full beard, a towel hung around his neck. He chuckled.

“Uh-oh. Sat in the dirt, didn't you?” he said, “Hammond! Now what have I told you about playing nice with the other kids?”

Hammond opened his mouth to retort, only for this new gentleman to hold a bar of soap in his face.

“Get back! I’ve got soap, and I’m not afraid to use it!”

Hammond hissed viscerally at the sight, only to get slapped on the butt by the man’s towel, sending him skittering back into his bunk.

“Back, foul creature! Back to the pit from whence you came!”

Hammond hid under his blanket, peering out at them angrily as the newcomer turned his attention to Jamison.

“Name’s Baptiste. Jean-Baptiste Augustin. Medical officer.”

He shook Jamison’s hand vigorously.

“Jamison Fawkes.”

“Jamison Fawkes? You’re my three o’clock!”  
He reached into a nearby doctor’s bag, pulling free a giant saw.

“Well, no time like the present!”

Jamie blanched.

“Oh, boy.”

“Nice, isn’t it? The catalog says that this little beauty can saw through a femur in 28 seconds - I’m betting I can cut that time in half,” he said, tossing the saw back and taking out a tongue compressor, “Now, stick your tongue out and say ‘ahh’.”

“Oh, no, really, I have a -”

But before Jamie could finish, the wooden tongue compressor was already holding his tongue down.

“So, where you from?” Baptiste said, peering into his mouth.

Jamie made some weird noise in response, unable to properly respond.

“Really? I have family up that way. Beautiful country up there,” Baptiste continued, replacing the wood with a glass thermometer, and holding his stethoscope to Jamie’s chest, “Do you do any fishing?”

Garbled speech was all Jamie could muster.

“Me? I hate fishing. I hate fish. Hate the taste, hate the smell, and hate all them little bones.”

He produced two enormous litre-size glass beakers.

“Here, I'm gonna need you to fill these up.”

Jamie fully spat out the thermometer in horror.

“With _what?!_ ” he sputtered.

Before Baptiste could reply, Moira’s voice resonated over the intercom.

“Will Jamison Fawkes please report to the bridge.”

Jamie exhaled in relief.

“Thank ya…” he muttered, rubbing his neck, then caught himself, “I mean, uh, uh, nice meetin’ ya!”

He bolted out.

“Uh-huh. Nice meeting you, too!” Baptiste called after.

* * *

Moira was nestled in the corner of the bridge, using the opportunity to call a friend on her hydrophone.

“So I said to him, ‘what's wrong with my bangers and mash?’ And he says to me -”

Her communication system flashed.

“Oh. Hold on a second, Ashe, I got another call.”

She flipped to the main announcement system.

“Sir, we're approaching coordinates. Hello, Ashe? Yeah, so anyways, he says…”

“Alright, let's have a look around,” Antonio said with a nod.

“Aye, sir,” Amélie said, “Set course to 2-4-0, fifteen degrees down angle on the bow planes. Come right 2-4-0.”

“Welcome to the bridge, Mister Fawkes,” Antonio greeted Jamie as he climbed up the ladder and joined them, before raising his voice,” Okay, everybody, I want you to give Mister Fawkes your undivided attention.”

Jamie peered shyly out over his audience, far less confident when real humans were observing him and not his multitude of museum artifacts.

“Good afternoon. Uh, c-can everyone hear me okay?”

No answer, though the young engineer known as Hana Song popped her bubblegum loudly.

“...heh, okay, uh, how - how 'bout some slides?”

He hurried over to the projector, holding some in his hands.

“The - the first slide is a depiction of a creature. A creature so frightening that sailors were said to be driven mad by the mere sight of it.”

He put the first slide in, and was surprised when the audience began to titter and giggle to themselves.

“Hubba hubba,” Moira chuckled.

Jamie turned and made a start, realizing he had put in an old photo of him and Mitzi at the beach instead of the proper picture, wearing his dinosaur inner tube.

“Haaa...sorry, that’s wrong…”

“Jeez,” Hana muttered to Mako, “I used to take lunch money from guys like this.”

“Anyway, this, uh...okay!” Jamie said as he found the right picture, “ This is an illustration of the Leviathan, the creature guarding the entrance to Atlantis.”

The slide depicted what looked like an enormous one-eyed, three-tailed lobster terrorizing some ships, next to ancient runes.

“With something like that, I would have white wine, I think,” Mako mused aloud. Hana snorted.

“It's a mythical sea serpent,” Jamie continued, “He's described in the Book of Job. The - the Bible says ‘out of his mouth go burnin’ lights, sparks of fire shoot out’. But more likely it's a carvin’ or a sculpture, to frighten the superstitious.”

“So we find this masterpiece, then what?” Antonio queried.

“When do we dig?!” Hammond asked loudly, flapping his arms.

“Actually, we don't have to dig!” Jamie said, turning of the projector drawing on the board in black pen, “Ya see, accordin’ to the Journal, the path to Atlantis will take us down a tunnel at the bottom of the ocean, and we'll come up a curve into an air pocket right here.”

He drew a tube leading to a circular room with water.

“There we'll find the remnants of an ancient highway that will lead us to Atlantis. Kind of like the grease trap in yer sink!”

“Cartographer, linguist, plumber. Hard to believe he's still single,” Amélie snickered.

“You said there would be digging!” Hammond hissed, tugging at her pant leg.

“Go away, rat,” she said, swatting at him.

“Captain, you'd better come look at this, sir,” the helmsman said worriedly.

“Okay, class dismissed,” Antonio said, waving his hand as he approached the glass, “Give me exterior lights.  
The submarine’s searchlights turned on, scanning the sea floor, and found instead of rocks and fish and coral structures, the ground was instead littered with the remains of old boats and ships. Oil rigs, viking warships, small barges to enormous schooners - all in pieces on the pale bottom of the ocean. The hairs on the backs of Jamison’s neck stood up.

“Look at that…” Amélie murmured.

“There are ships here from every era,” Jamie said, adjusting his glasses.

As the lights continued their sweep over the ground, they briefly passed over an enormous shape that no one seemed to notice. Similarly, no one saw when the same dark shadow suddenly moved, darting away behind them and ducking behind the structures of rock.

Moira’s radio receiver was beeping. Throwing her eighth cigarette aside, she switched it on her usual cool manner, then squinted at the strange, guttural noises that sounded in her headphones. She tuned the dial, listening carefully.

“...commander, I think you should hear this,” she said loudly.

“... _‘pravesh dvaar’..._ ” Jamison was reading from the Journal aloud, as Amélie hovered over his shoulder.

“Commander.”

“... _‘ka raasta milega’_...”

“Commander.”

“‘Enter the lair of the Leviathan’ -”

“Commander.”

“- ‘there ya will find the path...to the gateway’.”

“Commander.”

“ _Yes,_ Miss O’Deorain, what is it?” Antonio growled.

“I'm picking up something on the hydrophone I think you should hear.”

“Put it on speakers.”

Moira flicked the switch, playing the sound over the PA system. Jamie jumped at the noise, startled by the deep, almost robotic growls that sounded. Amélie narrowed her eyes as the other crewmates listened worriedly.

“What is it, a pod of whales?” Antonio said, studying the hydrophone.

“Uh-uh. Bigger,” Moira said.

“It sounds metallic,” Amélie twisted the dials, raising the volume “Could be an echo off one of the rocks.”

“Do you want to do my job? Be my guest,” Moira snarked.

“Is it just me, or is that getting louder?” Jamie squeaked.

Barely had he spoken when the sounds died down, disappearing after a brief echo. Amélie set her jaw.

“...well, whatever it was, it's gone now.”

“Helmsman,” Antonio instructed, “Bring us about. Tighten our search pattern and slow us to -”

He did not get to finish as suddenly something crashed into the side of the ship, sending everyone on the bridge flying off their feet. The shadowy monster had caught up with them, smashing at the submarine with its giant claws.

Down in the bowels of the ship, as other engineers clung to pipes and walls for dear life as the submarine tilted back and forth, Hana Song was racing through the hallway.

“Out of the way!” she snapped, shoving people aside and jumping down into the engine area. As the Leviathan continued its assault on the ship, she could see water flooding in fast as the others ran for safety.

“Tell McCree to melt the butter and bust out the bibs, I want this lobster served up on a silver platter!” Antonio yelled.

“Load the torpedo bays!” Amélie bellowed, “Subpod crews, battle stations!”

As the various teams scrambled to the subpods, the Leviathan banged against the submarine again, snarling audibly.

“Steady, boys. Don't panic,” Antonio said over the intercom as Amélie stumbled.

The Leviathan’s smaller set of claws made contact with the sub, grabbing it in one of its pincers. Jamison flew off his feet, falling onto the glass of the hull viewport, and gasped at the sight of a staring red eyes as it contracted with metal panelling.

“Hooley dooley! It’s a _machine!_ ” he yelped.

Down below, Hana was racing through ankle-deep water, grabbing the handle of the watertight door and hurriedly turning it to shut. Two men managed to jump through before she shut it on the others, stopping the surge of water coming through.

“Launch subpods!” Antonio barked.

The slew of mini-subs escaped the ship, Hammond and Mako housed in one. They darted through the water, returning to the monster.

“Fire!”

They unleashed homing explosives that blew up against the Leviathan’s flank and head, causing it to drop its hold on the sub.

“We're free. Full steam ahead!”

As the submarine tore for safety, the Leviathan turned its attention to the subpods, and unlike the bigger ship these went down in a single hit.

“Fire torpedoes!” Antonio shouted.

The ensign team obliged, firing the torpedoes into the Leviathan’s head - enraged, it revealed a new weapon, firing a laser from its mouth that went straight through the hull of the submarine and blowing a hole into the already-leaky engine room. The pressure was blowing the bolts out of the wall into Hana’s face, making her cover her head and bolt back. The bolts clanged all around her as she clambered up the metal stairs.

“Get me the bridge!” she demanded as she was hauled out and the hatch closed behind her.

“Sir, it’s engineering on four,” Moira said, flipping boredly through a newspaper as Antonio enabled the intercom.

“Antonio! We took a big hit down here and we're taking on water fast! I don't want to be around when it hits the boilers!”

“How much time do we have?”

“Twenty minutes, if the bulkhead holds!”

An enormous bang resounded behind her.

“...you better make that five.”

“You heard the lady. Let's move!” Antonio thundered, “Move!”

“Where? Move where?!” Jamison asked, as he was jostled down to the escape pods.

“Moira, sound the alarm!” Amélie yelled over the railing.

“He took his suitcase?” Moira was saying, twiddling a cigarette, “Ashe, honey, I don't think he's coming back.”

“ _MOIRA!_ ”

“I have to call you back. No, no, I'll call you.”

Jamison was scrambling through the ship, Hana ahead and Baptiste behind. It was hard enough to wrestle on his coat with how much the submarine was twisting back and forth, let alone with the added pressure of the blaring alarms.

“All hands, abandon ship,” Moira was saying over the intercom.

“Move it, people! Some time today would be nice!” Amélie spat as they jumped into the escape pod, before following them in, “Come on! Everybody grab a seat and buckle in!”

Jamie and the other two frantically strapped into three adjacent seats as Antonio secured himself in another.

“Lieutenant, get us out of here!”

Amélie jumped into the pilot seat, wrestling with the ejection lever as the Leviathan refocused on the sinking ship.

“Lieutenant!”

“I’m working on it!”

The monster swam closer, firing another laser into the submarine and blowing it clean in half. Amélie gave up, kicking her boot into the lever and finally freeing the escape pod.

“Hang on…”

She and the others sped off as the submarine behind them finally exploded, shattering into a giant cloud of smoke. The Leviathan ripped through it to chase them, roaring. Debris hit the pods, the riders jumping as they were flung back and forth in their harnesses.

“Where to, Mister Fawkes?” Antonio pressed.

“We're looking for a big crevice of some kind -!” Jamie said, flipping through the journal quickly as more remnants of the big sub crashed into them.

“...there! Up ahead!” their commander said, pointing at a huge trench at the bottom of the ocean.

“All craft, make your mark! 20 degrees down angle!” Amélie barked over the intercom.

“Roger! 20 degrees down angle!”

“Right behind you!”

The Leviathan was getting sloppy, all but blowing through the rocks and smashing into the ground to stop them.

“Dammit -!” Hammond squealed over the radio.

“We’re getting killed out here! Look out -!”

As the subpods and escape ships darted into the hole, the Leviathan got stuck, too big to fit through the entrance. That hardly stopped it, though, using its lasers to fire at and all but vaporize anything it could. Those who were not shot by the laser were getting smacked about by debris, smashing into the walls and exploding from damage.

“It’s only a grease trap it’s just like a sink it’sonlyagreasetrapit’sjustlikeaSIIINK -!” Jamie shrieked to himself.

The tunnel suddenly curved upwards, the aforementioned curve leading into the air pocket. Amélie yanked back hard on the steering wheel, desperately trying to yank them upwards. The butt of the ship smashed into the windshield of the subpod, but they managed to stabilize, surfacing into an enormous cave with a great wave of water.

Mako and Hammond climbed out of their subpod, looking around as searchlights were used in lieu of flashlights. It scanned the interior of the cave, before finally resting on an enormous peach-colored sculpture - a pathway of carved stone in intricate patterns, leading up to a great entryway fashioned to shape the gaping maw of a fish, with big fangs and squinting teeth. It dwarfed them, as if bearing down on the crew with intent to devour them, held back only by broken pillars.

The survivors made their way to shore with what supplies they had. Baptiste lit a candle and placed into an upside-down helmet, letting it float out onto the water in a mournful vigil.

“Seven hours ago, we started this expedition with 200 of the finest men and women I've ever known,” Antonio said softly, “...we're all that's left.”

They looked amongst each other sorrowfully, Baptiste resting his hands on Hana’s shoulders, Hammond leaning on Mako’s side.

“I won't sugarcoat it, gentlemen, we have a crisis on our hands. But we've been up this particular creek before, and we've always come through, paddle or no paddle. I see no reason to change that policy now.”

He turned, climbing up a few of the steps leading up the staircase to the entrance.

“From here on in, everyone pulls double duty. Everyone drives, everyone works.”

He looked to Jamison with a grim expression, the others following suit.

“Looks like all our chances for survival rest with you, Mister Fawkes. You and that little book.”

“We're all gonna die,” Moira muttered, throwing a cigarette aside.

“Okay, people. Saddle up. Lieutenant, I want this convoy moving five minutes ago!”

“Hammond, you're on point,” Amélie ordered, “No, Mako, Hana’s taking the oiler ,you know the rules. I want you 50 yards behind that truck at all times...and, Moira, put out that cigarette.”

A very loud, obnoxious beeping had started up, attracting Antonio’s attention. Jamison had found one of the unclaimed trucks, playing with the little horn on the side. Antonio growled darkly, making his way over and all but ripping the horn off, leaving Jamie awkwardly holding the squeezable portion.

“Are you sure you're checked out on this class of vehicle?”

“...uh…”

“Can you drive a truck,” Antonio asked more plainly.

“Pfft! Heh! Of course I can drive a truck!” Jamie said hurriedly, flashing a finger-gun before clambering in and fiddling with the controls. “I mean, sure, ya got yer steerin’, and yer gas, and yer brake...and, of course, this metal, uh...lookin’...thing.”

He poked at the stick-shift lever as Antonio looked at him cynically.

“...okay, so it was a dodgem car at Luna Park Melbourne, but it's the same basic principle!”

Antonio sighed, but said nothing further. He would just let the others take care of it.

And sure enough, they did - with Jamie leading the pack, truck constantly awkwardly stalling and jerking forward as he tried to make sense of the controls, the others behind him kept barking in irritation, Hammond leaning on the horn of the driller as Jamie threw apologies behind himself desperately.

“What’s the hold-up?!”

“Come on, civilian!”

“Sorry! Sorry abou - sorry -!”

Eventually the team gave up, tying Jamie’s truck to the back of Hammond’s digger and letting it pull him along instead as he pouted in the driver’s seat.

* * *

The descent into the depths of the Earth was a long and arduous journey, along snaking paths of long-defunct roadways, past aging pillars and ancient sculptures. Trucks had to be lowered down great caverns with pulley systems, navigating around stalagmites and stalactites.

At one point, they came upon an enormous sculpture akin to a skull, with two paths leading to each eye socket. Jamie studied the map, then confidently pointed left, only for the team to be fielded off by a giant insectoid monster. After hurrying back the way they came, Jamie realized he had been holding the Journal upside down, and they were meant to go right, much to his chagrin and everyone else’s visible frustration.

As they delved deeper still, they did not see humanoid shadows darting in the distance in the cliffs.

Jamison stopped to take a drink from one of the canteens, taking a big swig thirstily when Mako came up behind him.

“You didn't just drink that, did you?” he said with more emotion than usual.

“Mmhmm?”

“That's not good. That's nitroglycerin.”

Jamie made a horrified gag, grabbing his throat.

“Don't move. Don't breathe. Don't do anythin’, except pray...maybe.”

Hammond snuck up behind him, before springing onto Jamie’s shoulders.

“BOOM!”

“AGH -!” Jamie screeched in horror, as the other two men burst out in raucous laughter at their prank.

The team continued down deeper, and further.

Jamie was clearly enjoying himself the most, pausing to examine old architecture and run his hands over runes and symbols. Of course, this was counterbalanced by how disparate he was from the other teams. At one point, Baptiste had paused to help haul the others up a particularly tricky cliff lip, but when Jamie, who was bringing up the rear, reached up in the hopes Baptiste would pull him up too, the others just went off without him, leaving him to climb up alone. He got the message plainly enough - when the others were crowding around campfires to ‘enjoy’ McCree’s cooking, he sat by himself with his books and maps and compasses, studying the Journal under lamplight.

At one point, an obstacle in the form of a giant pillar presented itself.

“Good night! Will ya look at the size of this!” Jamie said excitedly, marvelling at the delicate and intricate patterns” It's gotta be half a kilometre high at least!”

Mako was busy nearby, hunched over the bottom. He grabbed Jamie by the scruff of his sweater, carrying him to safety as he continued to babble.

“It - it must have taken hundreds - no, pfft, _thousands_ of years to carve this thing!”

Mako set him down, picking up a remote detonator, and moved the plunger down - the excess of dynamite littered at the bottom of the pillar blew with a deafening explosion, and it fell lengthwise across the cavernous gap much to Jamie’s abject horror.

“Hey, look, I made a bridge,” Mako mused, “ It only took me, like, what? Ten seconds? Eleven, tops.”

Jamie moaned sadly, but did not reply, joining the caravan moving forward across. Yet again, no one noticed the human shapes above them on the escarpments - but this time, one of the shadows noticed them.

The temperature wildly varied as they explored the bowels of the Earth - sometimes it was swelteringly hot, other times it was icy cold and even snow could form. Jamie could barely speak past chattering teeth in these sections, pointing mittened hands where they needed to go instead.

Their next big obstacle came in the form of a massive wall, likely some sort of border protection or ancient temple piece based on the freezes carved into it. This one could not be knocked down like the pillar.

“Looks like we have a little roadblock,” Antonio said as the group gathered around, “Rutledge, what do you think?”

“I could unroadblock that if I had about 200 of these,” he replied, holding up a dynamite stick, “ Problem is I only got about...10. Plus, y’know, five of me own...and a couple of cherry bombs...a road flare.”

Antonio rolled his eyes impatiently as Mako sifted through his satchel.

“Hey, too bad we don't have some nitroglycerin, eh, Jamie?” Mako chuckled, as Jamie growled at him. Hammond, nestled in his driller, exploded into hysterics.

“Looks like we’re gonna have to dig,” Antonio said. Hammond gasped gleefully.

“It would be my pleasure!” he cackled, driving the digger into position and beginning the process of excavating the wall.

He barely got the nose in before suddenly it protested, sparks and smoke flying into the air as the driller backfired and ground to a screeching halt. Coughing hard, the feral man furiously jerked and yanked everything in sight, before settling for smashing his face into the horn while yelling obscenities.

“I don't understand it,” Hana growled as she pulled the back engine hood down and climbing in to see the damage, “I just tuned this thing up this morning!”

Jamison came over to observe, certain he had seen this before.

“Um…”

“It looks like the rotor's shot!” she announced, clambering down, “I'm gonna have to pull a spare from one of the trucks.”

“Uh, can l -?”

“ _Amugeosdo manjiji masibsio!_ ” Hana snapped at him, “I’ll be right back.”

Jamie watched her go awkwardly, then quickly scuttled into the back of the digger. Sure enough, it was just like his old favorite boiler back at the museum. A few quick twists of dials, and a rap of a wrench to calm the hissing and growling,and the driller was back online with a loud whoosh of smoke.

“SHE LIVES!” Hammond squealed.

“Hey! What did you do?!” Hana said, hurrying back. Jamie did his best to look cool as he climbed down, leaning on the back of the digger.

“Well, ya know, the boiler in this baby is a Humac model P54/813. Now we got the 814 back at the museum. The heatin’ cores on the whole Humac line have always been a little, ya know, temperamental, so sometimes ya gotta... boom -” he punched one hand into the palm of the other to punctuate this, “- persuade 'em a little.”

Hana scoffed.

“Yeah, yeah, thank you very much, shut up,” she said, pushing him away from the driller to close the hood. She raised a fist up as if to punch him, making him cower.

“Two for flinching,” she snarked, delivering two sharp punts to his shoulder far stronger than he had expected, leaving him to run his arm as Hammond guided them through the wall with his reinvigorated driller, clearly having the time of his life with how much he was maniacally laughing.

On the other side, past rocky cliffs, they found a long thin bridge, above which hung a rocky structure that glowed an artificial, eerie green. Jamie studied the Journal, looking at a matching diagram.

“This is it...it’s gotta be.”

“Alright, we’ll make camp here,” Antonio instructed.

“Why is it glowing…?” Hana asked, uncomfortable.

“Pah, it’s a natural phosphorescence,” Hammond said dismissively.

“That thing is gonna keep me up all night, I know it,” Mako muttered.

Thankfully, the green light seemed to dim as time went on, even as McCree banged his triangle to announce dinner was ready.

“Come and get iiit!”

He went around, filling people’s trays with the same overheated, overboiled refried beans and mystery meat as the last few days, as well as coffee that might as well have been boiled dirt.

“For the appetizer, caesar salad, escargot, and yer vegemite sandwiches,” he joked, ladling out big oily spoonfuls.

“Yuck,” Hana gagged, as Hammond peered over her shoulder.

“ I wanted the vegemite…”

“Knock yourself out,” she said, tossing him her tray as he joyously dug in.

“There you go, Jamie. Put some meat on them bones,” McCree said as he came over to Jamie’s little book station, giving him a sticky glob.

“Uh, cheers, McCree, that looks...greasier than usual.”

“You like it? Well, have some more,” McCree said cheerfully, tipping the cauldron over to dump a ridiculous amount onto his tray, “You're so skinny, if you turned sideways and stuck out yer tongue, you'd look like a zipper!”

Jamie forced a smile, putting the tray aside and flicking the excess that had dripped onto his hands.

“...you know, we've been pretty tough on the kid…” Baptiste was saying, glancing over at the blond sitting alone as the others ate, “What do you say we cut him some slack?”

“Yeah, you're right…” Hana begrudged, “Hey, Jamie! Why don't you come sit with us?”

Jamison looked up, surprised.

“R-really? Ya don't mind?” he asked, not used to being included.

“Nah, park it here,” Hana said with a smile, patting a rock next to her he could sit on.

“Gee, this is great,” Jamie said shyly, coming over with his food and the Journal, “I mean, ya know. it's an honor to be included in yer -”

Before he could finish, as he sat down, Hammond snuck a whoopie cushion under his butt, a loud wet fart noise sounding. Hammond was the only one who took great amusement at this, falling to the ground to laugh.

“ _Hammond!_ ” the others snapped.

“Ah, forgive me!” he giggled, “I could not resist!”

Jamie did not mind, just returning to studying the pages of the old volume.

“...hey, Jamie, don’t you _ever_ close that book?” Hana pressed, looking him over.

“Yeah, you must’ve read it a dozen times by now,” Baptiste echoed.

“I know, but this...this doesn't make any sense,” Jamie said, tapping the parchment with the back of his spoon, “See, in this passage here, the shepherd seems to be leadin’ up to something. He calls it ‘the heart of Atlantis’ - it could be the power source the legends refer to. But then it just...it cuts off. It's almost like there's a missin’ page.”

He tapped the next page with the disparate text as if to prove this.

“Kid, relax. We don't get paid overtime,” Mako said monotonously.

“I know, I know. Sometimes I get a little carried away…” Jamie said sheepishly, setting down his tray, “But, hey, ya know, that's what this is all about, right? I mean, discovery, teamwork, adventure!”

When the others looked at him blankly, his grin fell a bit.

“Unless, maybe…you're just in it for the money?”

The others looked amongst themselves.

“Money,” Hana said.

“Money,” Moira chorused.

“Money,” Baptiste agreed.

“Money,” Hammond squeaked.

“I'm gonna say...money,” Mako nodded.

Jamison sighed goodnaturedly..

“Well, I guess I set meself up for that one…”

He rubbed his neck, trying to tease apart stiff muscles.

“What, is something wrong with your neck?” Baptiste asked, coming closer.

“Oh, yeah, I must've hurt it when -”

Before he could finish, Baptiste had gripped his head in his hands, twisting it side to side before releasing him.

“Ah -! Ow -!”

“Better?”

Jamie blinked in surprise, touching his neck.

“...yeah! Hey, how'd ya learn how to do that?”

“An Arawak medicine man.”

“Get outta here.”

“Born and raised with 'em. My father was a French army medic. He settled down in Haiti after he met my mother.”

He handed Jamie a sepia picture of two dark-skinned people, smiling happily.

“No kiddin’.”

“Nope. Halfway through medical school, I was drafted. One day I'm studying gross anatomy in the classroom, the next I'm sewing up soldiers in trenches.”

“Main course!” McCree announced, leaning in much to everyone’s horror.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t eat another bite -!”

“Thank you, I’m watching my weight -!”

McCree laughed.

“Hahaha, don't you worry. It'll keep and keep and _keep_.”

He carried off the cauldron as the group looked to each other uncomfortably.

“Thank God I lost my sense of taste years ago,” Moira said, dumping the remnants of her food into the campfire. The others quickly followed suit, stifling the flames with the sludge.

Everyone went off to set up their sleeping spots, making a small encampment around each other.

“Eh...aren't you gonna pitch up yer tent?” Mako asked to Jamie, wearing striped boxers and a tanktop.

“Uh, I did?” Jamie said, looking over a pathetically sagging tent mess of sheets and clothes. Mako sighed, pushing him aside with his bedroll to right the mess.

“Heh, I guess I'm still a little rusty at this. I haven't gone campin’ since...well, the last time my grandpa took me,” Jamie said.

“I never got to meet your grandfather,” Hana said as she pulled off her sweater from under her overalls, “What was he like?”

“Where do ya start?” Jamie said, laying down on his bedroll, “He was like a father to me, really. Me parents died when I was an ankle-biter, and he took me in.”

He paused, then giggled to himself.

“What?” Hana pressed, amused.

“Heh, I was just thinkin'...one time, when I was - when I was eight, we were hikin’ along this stream...and I saw somethin’ shinin’ in the water!”

He mimed picking it up.

“It was a genuine arrowhead. Well, you'd think I'd found a lost civilization the way Grandpa carried on about it. It wasn't until I was older that I realized that the arrowhead was just some compressed shale mixed with zinc pyrite that had fractured into an isosceletic triangulate.”

Hammond, who had been walking nearby in fullbody striped pajamas and carrying a rat plushie, tittered loudly.

“That is so _cute!_ ” he said, and Jamie was pleased it was not as condescending as usual.

“Say, Hana…” he said, “Uh, no - no offense, but how does a teenager become the chief mechanic of a multimillion dollar expedition?”

“Well, I took this job when my dad retired,” Hana said, pulling off her shoes and socks, “But the funny thing was, he always wanted sons, right? One to run his machine shop, and the other one to be middleweight boxing champion!”

She punched her sleeping bag a few times before rolling it out.

“...but he got my sister Yuna, and me instead.”

“So, what...what happened to yer sister?”

“She's 24 and 0, with a shot at the title next month,” Hana smirked, “Anyway, I'm saving up so my papa and I can open another shop.”

Jamie smiled wide at her, before glancing up as Moira walked by, dressed only in a robe and fluffy slippers, and with a garrish face mask.

“Forget yer jammies, Miss O’Deorain?”

“I sleep in the nude,” she replied. Jamison’s smile froze awkwardly on his face as she passed. A black sleeping mask fell on his head.

“You're gonna want a pair of these,” Baptiste said, “She sleepwalks.”

Jamie cringed at the thought.

“Well, as far as me goes, I just like to blow things up,” Mako said, lying on his back.

“Come on, Mako, tell the kid the truth,” Baptiste said playfully. Mako glared at him, but obliged.

“...me family owned a flower shop. We would sell roses, carnations, baby's breath, you name it. One day, I'm makin’ about three dozen corsages fer this _prom_. You know, the one they put on the wrist. And everybody, they’re comin’ - ‘where is it?’, ‘when is it?’, ‘does it match me dress?’ - it's a nightmare!”

He facepalmed.

“Anyway, I guess there was this leak next door, of gas or what. _Boom!_ No more Lindholm laundry. Blew me right through the front window. It was like a sign from God. I found meself in that boom.”

Before Jamie could comment, an uncomfortable noise akin to grunting and shoveling dirt came from nearby - Hammond had found a patch of soft dirt, burying himself in it before shutting off his headlamp with a low cackle.

“...what's Hammond’s story?”

“Uh -”

"Uhp! Trust me on this one. You don't wanna know,” Baptiste butted in, “Hana, don't tell him. You shouldn't have told me, but you did. And now I'm telling _you_ , you don't wanna know.”

Before anyone could protest, he blew out the lamp and plunged them into darkness to sleep.

* * *

It was silent, except for snores. Dark too. The strange green glow above had almost faded. No one was awake to see the shadows darting into the village of tents.

They cast the only real light, through the blue glow of their giant masks that covered their full bodies sans arms and legs. One crept over to a duffel bag, digging through it and tossing items aside, trying to find something.

It paused, lifting a picture. The one of Jamison and his grandfather. Its fingers passed over it gently, studying it closely -

Jamison sat up with a loud yawn.

The humanoids, startled, dropped everything and bolted away.

Jamie turned on his flashlight, smacking his lips tiredly as he grabbed a roll of toilet paper and snuck through the tents.

“Mngh...albino’s got a gun…” McCree mumbled in his sleep.

Jamie placed the roll atop a rock, holding the flashlight under his chin as he wrestled with his belt. Unnoticed by him, the strong beam of light fell on the hanging structure, which suddenly began to glow a far brighter, more sinister green.

From the crevices, a steady stream of small bugs began to fly down, attracted by his flashlight. They circled around Jamie, buzzing incessantly like little mosquitos.

“Agh - shoo -!” he hissed, swatting at them. In his movements, he dropped his flashlight, opting instead to crush one with his toilet paper. Rather than simply squish it, though, it burst into fire. He stared for a second before dropping it in alarm.

“Holy -! Whoa -!”

Around him, other bugs were clinging to the tents, setting them ablaze too. And above, a thick cloud of them were flying straight for the camp.

“...f...fi...fire! Fire!” Jamie screamed, racing through the tents, “FIRE! _FIRE!_ ”

Antonio opened his eyes blearlily, furious.

“I’m gonna kill him…” he muttered, before poking his head out, “Fawkes, go back to bed -!”

But he saw Jamie had been telling the truth - the entire camp was engulfed in a blaze of fire, devouring their supplies and tents.

“Get some water on that fire!” Amélie bellowed, shoving one of the hastily awakening teammates forward. Antonio snapped out of his stun.

“No time! Get us into those caves! Move it! Move it! Move it!”

Everyone scrambled into their vehicles, making a beeline across the bridge as the bugs continued their unrelenting storm.

“Jamie! Jump!” Hana called to the scrawny blond as he ran for it, reaching her hand to him, “Right now -!”

Propelled by an explosion behind him of one of the trucks succumbing to the fires, he leapt, grabbing hold and letting her yank him aboard.

As the others drove as fast as they could, another covered car had caught fire, blowing sky-high as the bugs set the gasoline tanks ablaze. The sheer force of the blast caused the rocky insect nest above them to shatter, falling straight down and taking the bridge with it. As the path sagged, Hammond’s driller up front could not move its wheels against the steep slope, sliding backwards.

“No no! Nononono -!” Hammond squeaked in panic, trying to keep it moving forward and failing. It smashed into the front of the other cars, sending them all crashing into the abyss with horrible screams as the path gave out.

There was a deafening cacophony of sound, then silence.

…

Antonio lit a match, holding it up.

“Alright, who’s not dead? Sound off.”

Groans and moans around him.

“Danged lightnin’ bugs done bit me on my sit-upon…” McCree growled as the match burned Antonio’s hand and forced him to drop it, “Somebody's gonna have to suck out that poison. Now don't everybody jump up at once.”

Grumbles and hisses in response.

“Hana, give me a damage report,” Antonio barked as truck lights and flashlights were turned on, giving some sight to the battered team.

“Not as bad as it could have been,” Hana said, surveying the mess and rubbing her back, “We totaled rigs two and seven, but the digger looks like it'll still run. Lucky for us we landed in something soft.”

“Pumice ash,” Hammond reported, “We are standin’ at the base of a dormant volcano.”

He peered at Amélie as she wiped some soot off her shoulders, to which she bonked him over the head before firing a flare into the ceiling. It travelled lengthily with a low whistle.

“It just keeps going…” she said softly.

“Maybe that's our ticket outta here,” Mako said.

The flare finally met resistance, banging off the cap of the volcano with a dull _thunk_.

“Maybe not,” Amélie retorted.

“The magma has solidified in the bowels of the volcano, effectively blocking the exit,” Hammond said, studying the cavernous hull around them.

“I got the same problem with sauerkraut,” Moira snarked.

“Hold on. Back up,” Baptiste interrupted nervously, “Are you saying this whole volcano can blow at any time?”

“No, no, no, _no!_ ” Hammond said cheekily, “That would take an explosive force of great magnitude.”

Everyone immediately looked to Mako, who was futzing with one of his homemade bombs with a screwdriver. He looked up awkwardly.

“Maybe I should do this later, huh?”

“If we could blow the top off of that thing, we'd have a straight shot to the surface,” Antonio mused, “Mister Fawkes, what do you think?”

No answer. Everyone blinked and looked around, realizing they had missed one in their role call.

“Mister Fawkes? ...Fawkes!”

* * *

Jamie’s head was spinning. He had somehow managed to land rightside up, lying against a boulder. He hurt all over from having been flung loose off the truck.

“ _Hamaare paas ek achetan ajanabee hai._ ”

“ _Vah hamaaree tarah ka nahin hai._ ”

Something was talking to him. At first he thought he was so concussed that he could not properly understand English, but it dawned on him suddenly that he _did_ understand this language, just he had never heard it aloud.

“ _Usake paas aise rahasy hain jo ham sabhee ko bacha sakate hain._ ”

It was Atlantean.

He opened his eyes weakly, then gasped. There were people in front of him - well, were they really people? With their giant masks and glowing eyes and mouths? - muttering to themselves, studying him. He made panicked noises, trying to scoot away, when his arm suddenly burst into pain. He made a soft cry, gripping it and feeling blood on his fingers as one of the strange people came a little closer.

“ _Use chikitsa kee aavashyakata hai._ ”

“ _Kya hamen use theek karana chaahie?_ ”

“ _Theek hai._ ”

She slowly lifted her mask, and his eyes widened at the sight of her.

She had long, dark hair, and beautiful eyes, patterned all over her body with tattoos and gold jewelry. She had an expression of genuine concern, looking at his wound, while he could only stare at her in shock.

She tugged his tanktop down a bit, then pulled up a necklace hung around her neck - the pendant of it was an iridescent jewel that had been giving the blue glow to her mask. She gently tapped the cool crystal against his wound, then quickly pressed her hand to it. At first it hurt, then suddenly the sensation faded. When she lifted her hand, there was a brief handprint of icy blue that melted away, and then the bloody scratch was gone. He looked at her, stunned, as she smiled at him and pulled her mask back down.

There came a great crumbling and crashing - the digger was busting through the rock to meet them. The three humans bolted in a panic.

“Hey -! Wait -!” Jamie yelled after them, reaching. As the driller continued its rampage, he pulled himself to his feet and gave chase, clambering over rocks.

“Who are ya -?! Where are ya goin’?! Come back!”

He leapt over the stones, following the group towards a pale light. There was a wind kicking him, blowing at his hair as he pushed through a thin crack and stumbled out onto a grassy cliff covered in vines.

“Hey, wait a minute! Who are ya?!”

His own voice echoed back up at him as he stumbled to the edge of the cliff. His jaw went slack as he stared, not even reacting to the digger bursting through the wall behind him. The others joined him, looking out in much the same shock and awe. Baptiste rubbed his eyes, not daring to believe it. Hana drew a sharp breath.

Before them was a sight so impressive, it may have leapt out from the pages of a storybook. An enormous landmass covered in water bore down on them, dwarfing them and their machinery. Water flooded in an endless waterfall off the sides of the rock, pouring down into the lava pools below. The mixture of magma and water generated steam that blew around them, buffeting their hair and clothes. The ‘sky’ despite being underground was as brilliant a blue as the surface.

And nestled in the midst of it all was an enormous city, with towering architecture that ranged in style from Mayan to Greek to Cambodian. There was life - flora and fauna alike - everywhere. It was alive.

“Sweet mother of Jefferson Davis -!” McCree burst out, first to break the silence.

“It’s beautiful…” Hana breathed.

“Jamie, I gotta hand it to you,” Baptiste said, patting Jamie’s shoulder, “You really came through.”

Barely had he spoke when the humans Jamie had been chasing suddenly jumped down around them, brandishing protective weapons and forcing everyone to take a step back towards the edge of the cliff.

“...well, I take that back,” Baptiste corrected himself.

“Holy cats, who are these guys?!” Antonio spat.

“They - they gotta be Atlanteans…!” Jamie said, awed.

“What?! That’s impossible!” Amélie shot over her shoulder, gripping her gun.

“I seen this back in Arizona,” McCree said, “They can smell fear just by lookin’ at you! So keep quiet!”

The lead girl, the one with the recognizable mask that had healed Jamie’s wound, set her glaive down and pointed at them.

“ _Tum ajanabee kaun ho?_ ” she said.

“I think it’s talkin’ to ya?” Hammond tugged at Jamie’s pantleg.

“ _Aap kahaan se aaye hain?_ ”

Jamison awkwardly took a step forward.

“ _Aap kaun hain...aap ajanabee hain...aur aap kahaan se aae hain?_ ” he said haltingly.

She took her mask off, handing it to one of the others, and now in the proper light he could see her in more detail. She had a beautiful blue skirt and top, the necklace glowing against her dark skin. She studied him.

“ _Aapake bolane ka tareeka mere lie ajeeb hai…_ ” she said. She spoke so fast that it was hard to get a handle on what she was saying, even for Jamison.

“ _Main...yaatra...dost!_ ” he managed to awkwardly construct, knowing that was definitely not grammatically correct.

“ _Main yaatra dost -?_ _Aap ek mitr yaatree hain?_ ” she corrected him impatiently. Jamison decided to try something else, something close.

“ _Ita, sum amice viator,_ ” he said, in Latin.

“ _Dices linguam Romae!_ ” she replied, impressed with him.

“ _Parlez-vous français?_ "

“ _Oui, monsieur!_ ”

“Ah, they speak the romantic language!” Hammond squeaked, “ _Pardon, mademoiselle!_ ”

He waved her over, and she obliged, bending to listen as he whispered in her ear. Her smile quickly vanished and she opted to punch him in the face, sending him flying.

“Ooo! I like her!” Baptiste said, clapping.

“Hm, ‘bout time someone hit him, I’m just sorry it wasn’t me,” Hana chuckled.

The other Atlanteans removed their masks, greeting the others in a variety of tongues - Spanish, Italian, German.

“How do they know all these languages?” Hana asked Jamie.

“Their language must be based on a root dialect. It's just like the Tower of Babel!”

“Well, maybe English is in there somewhere,” Antonio said, before raising his voice, “We are explorers from the surface world. We come in peace.”

“Welcome to the city of Atlantis!” the woman said with a wide smile, before grabbing Jamison’s arm, “Come! You must speak with my father now!”

As she tugged him along, Antonio turned back to the remaining teammates.

“Squad B, head back to the shaft and salvage what you can. We'll rendezvous in 24 hours.”

“Yes, sir! Let's move it, you heard him!”

As the parade of cars and trucks drove over the rickety wooden bridge over the pools of lava. The sweltering heat buffeted them from all sides.

“Hrnn...I’m so excited…” Hammond purred with an uncomfortable wide grin that made Mako shift away from him.

As they crossed over the flood of steam over the ever-flowing water, mysterious creatures flew overhead, making strange caws. The centermost island of the sunken continent jutted out of the fog like a mountain, a dark blue against the pale clouds.

“And what's really amazin’ -” Jamison was babbling aloud as he scribbled down notes, much to the subtle amusement of Amélie and Antonio riding beside him, “- is that if ya deconstructed Latin, ya overlaid it with a little Sumerian, throw in a dash of Thessalonian, you'd be getting close to their basic grammatical structure. Or at least you'd be in the same ballpark!”

“Someone's having a good time,” she murmured to Antonio smugly.

“Like a kid at Christmas.”

After a moment, her smile slipped and she hesitantly turned to him again.

“Commander, there were not supposed to be people down here. This changes everything.”

Antonio narrowed his eyes.

“This changes _nothing_.”

“Take that, Maximilien!” Jamie said defiantly, throwing down his pen before peeking out of the window. Overgrown torches were being lit with fire as they drew close to the center peak, guided by the girl from before. They found themselves soon at a great stone entryway guarded by two sentries, who slowly pushed the enormous slab-like doors open to grant them passage. Inside was a waterlogged throneroom composed of a great moat dotted with rocks in a circular formation. Behind the blankets of the throne itself was the gutted remains of an ancient statue, its head intact enough to allow water to gush down its face into the lake below - like tears out of its eyes. More of those weird flying creatures darted past them as the girl led them over the mossy rocks and lilypads.

“ _Namaskaar, aapaka mahaatmy. Main aagantukon ko laaya hoon_ ,” she said, kneeling down to the ground in a deep bow. Jamison followed suit, trying his best to translate what he was hearing.

“ _Greetings, your highness. I have brought the visitors._ ”

“ _You know the law, Satya. No outsiders may see the city and live,_ ” the king muttered in a dark, deep voice, rusted with age.

Jamison side-eyed the other two, wishing they would bow too and show some respect, but bit back his comments, opting instead to dig out his papers and scribble down notes.

“ _Father, these people may be able to help us._ ”

“ _We do not need their help._ ”

“ _But father -_ ”

“ _That is enough. We will discuss this later._ ”

She ducked her head, furrowing her brows.

“...your majesty,” Antonio spoke up, “On behalf of my crew, it is an honor to be welcomed to your city.”

“Uh, ahem, excuse me, commander -” Jamison tried to warn him.

“You presume much to think you are welcome here,” the king said in his gravelly tone.

“Sir, we have come a long way looking for -”

“I know what you seek, and you will not find it here. Your journey has been in vain.”

“But we are peaceful explorers, men of science.”

The king chuckled snidely.

“And yet you bring weapons,” he said, gesturing to the rifle at Antonio’s hip. Even though Jamison could see from here he was blind, he would never have guessed given his pinpoint accuracy.

“Our weapons allow us to remove... _obstacles_ we may encounter,” Antonio countered.

“Some obstacles cannot be removed with a mere show of force,” the king retorted, standing up and leaning on his staff, “Return to your people. You must leave Atlantis at once.”

“Oh, Your Majesty, be reasonable.”

“Sir -!” Jamie butted in.

“Not now, son.”

“Trust me on this! We better do as he says…!”

Antonio hesitated, then continued.

“May I respectfully request that we stay one night, sir? That would give us time to rest, resupply, and be ready to travel by morning.”

Hmm…” the king pondered, then nodded begrudgingly, “Very well. One night. That is all.”

“Well, thank you, Your Majesty,” Antonio said with saccharine gratefulness, leading himself, Jamison, and Amélie Jamie glanced behind himself at the girl, who looked like she wanted to say something, but fell quiet as the doors grated shut behind them.

“ _Hm...your heart has softened, Satya,_ ” King Nedakh said, _“A thousand years ago, you would have slain them on sight._ ”

She made a frustrated noise, walking to his side as he lay on his chaise longue.

“ _A thousand years ago, the streets were lit and our people did not have to scavenge for food at the edge of a crumbling city!_ ” she retorted, using the crystal around her neck to light the small lamp above him on the ceiling.

“ _The people are content._ ”

“ _They do not know any better! We were once a great people, now we live in ruins!_ ” she snapped, sinking down beside him and wetting a rag to rub against his head, “ _The kings of our past would weep if they could see how far we have fallen!_ ”

“ _Satya._ ”

“ _If these outsiders can unlock the secrets of our past...perhaps we can save our future._ ”

“ _What they have to teach us, we have already learned._ ”

“ _Our way of life is dying._ ”

“ _Our way of life is preserved,_ ” he said, taking her hand in his, “ _Satya, when you take the throne, you will understand._ ”

He pressed his hand to her cheek as she reciprocated the affectionate touch, but he could not see her smile slip.

* * *

“So, how'd it go? Baptiste pressed when Antonio, Jamison, and Amélie returned from the throne room.

“Well, the king and his daughter don't exactly see eye to eye,” Jamison explained, “She seems to like us okay, but the king...I don't know, I think he's hidin’ somethin'.”

“Well, if he's hiding something, I want to know what it is,” Antonio rumbled.

“Someone needs to talk to that girl,” Amélie purred, smiling.

“I will go!” Hammond said, jumping up and down and waving his grubby hands.

“Someone with good people skills.” Mako said.

“I will do it!”

“Someone who won't scare her away,” Baptiste nodded.

“I volunteer!”

“Someone who can speak the language,” Moira added, twirling her cigarette.

“For the good of the mission, I will go!”

“Good man, Fawkes. Thanks for volunteering,” Antonio said, patting Jamison’s shoulders as he rifled through his notes with a pencil in his mouth, having barely paid attention to the conversation. He looked up, blinking in confusion, as Hammond burst into comically exaggerated tears.

“Go get ‘em, tiger,” Hana cackled, hip-bumping him as the rest of them dispersed. Shaking his head, Jamison quickly formulated a plan. He hid behind one of the mossy, overgrown pillars and waited - sure enough, shortly after, the girl made her way out, shutting the heavy doors behind her. Jamie peeked out, watching her walk along the stone pathway, then ducked behind safety again.

“Okay, Jamie, don't take no for an answer,” he muttered to himself, trying to hype himself up, “‘Look, I have some questions for you, and I'm not leavin’ this city until they're answered!’ Yeah, that's it. That's good, that's good.”

He looked back out to the door and found to his shock that she was gone. Confused, he stepped out of his hiding spot and looked around, trying to pinpoint her.

Before he could blink, a hand clapped over his mouth - she had snuck up behind him somehow.

“I have some questions for you, and you are not leaving this city until they are answered,” she whispered in his ear, grinning wide.

“...yeah, well, I -! ...okay.”

“Shh!” she said, covering his mouth again, “Come with me!”

She whisked him away, leading him behind waterfalls and through cliffside tunnels with overgrown plants. Everytime Jamie hesitated to take in the natural wonders, she quickly grabbed his wrist and yanked him along.

Eventually the two found themselves in a grove of moss and trees and dappling light streaming in through the leaves. A faint smell of wet leaves filled the air as the cool stone slapped gently under the girl’s feet as she leapt down.

“Oh, there is so much to ask about your world…” she said dreamily as Jamison tried to scrabble down the rocks behind her. She grabbed him by his belt loop, yanking him down beside her.

“You are a scholar, are you not?” she pressed, looking him over and tugging his shirt back down, “Judging from your diminished physique and large forehead, you are suited for nothing else!”

“Wh -?”

She stole his glasses, putting them on and looking around wondrously.

“What is your country of origin?”

“Well -”

“When did the flood waters recede?”

“Uh -”

“How did you -?”

“Wait, wait a minute,” Jamie managed to interrupt and take his glasses back, “I got a few questions for ya, too. So let's do this, alright? Ya ask one, then I'll ask one, then ya, then me, then - well, ya get it.”

“Very well. What is _your_ first question?”

“Well, okay, uh, how did ya get here? Well, I mean, not ya personally but yer...yer culture. I mean, how did all of _this_ end up down _here_?

“It is said that the gods became jealous of Atlantis,” she said, climbing over the boulders as he followed, “They sent a great cataclysm and banished us here. All I can remember is the sky going dark...and people shouting and running. Then, a bright light, like a star, floating above the city. My father said it called my mother to it...I never saw her again.”

She leaned against a moss-riddled sculpture.

“I'm sorry. If it, if it's any consolation, l-I know how ya feel, because I lost m…”

Jamie paused suddenly, registering what she had said.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute! Whoa, back up! Wh - what - what are you tellin’ me, that ya remember because ya were _there_ ? No, that, that's impossible! Because, I mean, that would make ya, ya know, 85 - _8800_ years old!”

She looked at him quizzically.

“Yes?”

He stared, turning red.

“...oh, well, hey, u-uh...lookin' good!” he said awkwardly, “Just, uh, ahem...ya got another question fer me?”

“Yes. How is it _you_ found your way to this place?”

“Well, I'll tell ya, it wasn't easy. If it weren't for this book, we never would have made it.”

He held up the Shepherd's Journal, and she immediately snatched it from his hand, leafing through the parchment pages feverishly and running a delicate finger over the runes.

“Okay, second question. Legend has it that yer people possessed a power source of some kind that enabled them to -”

“You mean...you can understand this?” she said, shocked.

“Uh, y-yes, I'm a linguist. That's what I do, that's me job. Now, uh, gettin’ back to -”

She whipped around, shoving the pages into his face with enough force to make the binding creak.

“This! Right here! You can read this?!”

“Yes, yes!” he said weakly, “I can read Atlantean, just like ya!”

But when she took the book back, looking between the words with a blank expression, he realized.

“...ya can't, can ya?”

“No one can,” she said grimly, shrugging in defeat, “Such knowledge has been lost to us since the time of the _Bheeshan Baadh_.”

“Oh, the Great Flood...”

“...show me!” she exclaimed, shoving the book back into his chest.

“Okay, uh... _ek aur leeg ke lie sankeern path ka paalan karen_ …” he read aloud.

“‘Follow the narrow passage for another league’…” she echoed.

“... _vahaan aapako paanchava maarkar milega_.”

“...’there you will find the fifth marker’.”

“Yeah! Yeah, that’s it!” Jamie nodded, “How was me accent?”

“Boorish, provincial...and you speak it through your nose.”

She tapped his long snoot to emphasize this.

“Yeah, gotta work on that…”

“Here, let me show you something!”

She grabbed him by the scruff of his tanktop and pulled him after her. Ducking behind a shadowy tree, she removed a dusty blanket off of a strange contraption. One might have mistaken it for a statue, but unlike the other Atlantean architecture around them, it was free from overgrowth and far too sleek. The stone used to carve it was also darker, like slate, and the fishy form was too finessed and simple to be just a carving.

“It looks like...some sort of vehicle?” Jamie mused, studying it closer.

“Yes. But no matter what I try, it will not respond! Perhaps if -?”

He nodded in understanding, cracking his knuckles.

“Way ahead of ya.”

He knelt down, studying the inscription surrounding an intricately carved shape.

“Okay, let's see what we got here...okay, ‘place crystal into slot’.”

“Yes, yes, I have done that!” she said, pacing.

“‘Gently place your hand on the inscription pad.’”

“Yes!”

“Okay, did ya turn the crystal one-quarter turn back?”

“Yes, yes!”

“While yer hand was on the inscription pad?”

“Ye - ...no.”

“Ahaha, well, see, there's yer problem right there. That's an easy thing to miss. Ya know, ya deserve credit fer even - even gettin' this far.”

She looked him over sourly, folding her arms. Jamie grinned sheepishly.

“...okay, uh, give it a try.”

She followed his instructions, turning her crystal to and fro while keeping her hand pressed to the seven-sided carving. As if by magic, the fish-like sculpture sprang to life amidst whirrs and scrapes, the various details glowing pale blue like it had woken from a long slumber. It jumped up, floating into the air as the two of them stumbled back with gasps.

“ _Gajab ka…_ ” she whispered.

“Yeah, ya got that right…”

They approached the hovering vehicle gingerly.

“Oh, th - this is great! With this thing, we could see the whole city in no time at all! Wonder how fast it goes -?”

Barely had Jamie pressed a finger to the glowing blue inscription pad when the fish suddenly shot out, slamming into a nearby wall before ricocheting up, then to the sides of the grove multiple times. Watching it whizz back and forth, Jamie and the girl barely managed to throw themselves to the ground and cover their heads before it flew right above them, finally coming to a crashing stop against a nearby slab of stone. Amidst electric crackles and spewing smoke, Jamie looked to her with pink ears and wide eyes.

“...so...uh...who’s hungry?”

* * *

She obliged to take him the scenic way, first climbing up a lengthy overgrown cliffside past vines and bird nests to get a proper view of the lost city.

“By the way!” he called after her as he strained up the rocks, “We were never properly introduced! My name’s Jamie!”

She glanced down at him with a smile.

“My name is Symmetra Vaswani.”

“Sym - Symmetrivasani - uh - hey, ya got a nickname?”

She giggled.

“Satya.”

“Okay! Satya! I can remember that!”

She pulled him over the lip of the escarpment, shooing some flying reptilian creatures in the process.

“...wow.”

Jamie stared out over the horizon - they were not at the top of a mountain, but rather a carved pillar as tall as a skyscraper. It overlooked the vast country of Atlantis - its blue sky with steam-filled clouds, the peaks and pyramids of the architecture, the distant sprawling ports in the turquoise water, the smell of the glimmering waves in their noses and the whipping wind through their hair. He felt his eyes well up a bit.

“What is wrong?” she asked, genuinely concerned.

“Oh, it's nothin’, I just...got somethin’ in me eye,” he said hurriedly, removing his glasses to rub at his face, “...ya know, me grandpa used to tell me stories about this place as far back as I can remember...I just wish he could be standin’ here with me.”

After a moment, she rested her hand on his shoulder, and the two stared out at the lost city in quiet bliss.

She continued their tour after they gingerly climbed down, taking him to the fishing pockets around the outskirts of the city. Fishermen standing on stilts to spear stray minnows, or throwing nets over the sides of boats to pull up mollusks, dotted the water. She pointed at one group as they pulled up some traps filled with strange three-eyed purple lobster creatures - one of them was thrown to the two of them. Jamie jumped, yelping as the still-live creature landed in his arms, wrapping its tentacle-like tail around his wrist and snapping at his head furiously, only for Satya to grab it and kill it with a sharp bite to the back of its head.

“Tell me more about your companions,” she said, tucking it into his satchel as he stared at her in awe, “Your physician, he is called McCree?”

“No, that’s Baptiste,” he said, following after her over piers and past canoes with colorful wind sails.

“Who is?”

“The doctor. He’s Baptiste.”

“Oh, he is a religious man.”

“No, no no, that - that’s his name,” Jamie said, balancing on the wooden planks.

“His name is religious man?” Satya said quizzically as they made it to the market, where stalls and stands were covered by blanket canopies and the smell of food hung thick in the air.

“No, Baptiste. Well, I mean, I dunno, maybe he’s religious, too.”

“So all of your doctors are religious?”

“No. Well, l-I'm sure some are, but that's not a requirement. You're missin’ the point.”

“You are confusing me,” she said, swatting at him as they passed Hana and McCree who were admiring a tattoo stand.

Later that evening, the team gathered at the home of one of the other Atlanteans and were served a veritable feast of various foods, which they happily tucked into while sharing stories. Satya was still hung up on the companions’ names, trying her best to run through it again as Jamie attempted to eat a slippery seaweed-esque thing using one of the weird utensils on hand.

“Doctors can be religious, but yours is probably not. Baptiste is kind, but that is not his name. McCree is sweet, but he is not your doctor. And the little digging animal called Hammond...he is your pet?”

“Close enough,” Jamie chuckled, helping himself to more potato-adjacent mash. Nearby, Hammond in question was stuffing himself, while Mako studied a still-wriggling multi-eyed critter he had been served.

“Oh, don't forget to eat the head!” Baptiste said, taking a big squishy bite from a similar creature as Mako looked on in horror, “That's where all the nutrients are!”

Mako gagged and pawned his off to Hammond, who devoured it whole with a satisfied burp.

Elsewhere, unbeknownst to Jamie, the missing team members were gathering weaponry.

* * *

After dinner, as light in the lost city began to die down, Satya took Jamison to a hidden grotto, where water ran freely down old bridges and the fireflies peacefully darted through the air.

“Ya know, Satya, the most we ever hoped to find was some crumblin’ buildings, maybe some broken pottery,” Jamie was saying, slowly capturing a lone firefly off a leaf with his hands, “Instead, we find a livin’, thrivin’ society.”

He paused to let the bug ticklishly walk over his fingers as it squeaked obstinately.

“Heheh. These guys are kinda cute when they're not, ya know, formed into a fiery column of death.”

He brought it over to Satya, who was holding a pink glass lantern strung on a staff. She opened it for him to place the bug inside for light.

“We are not thriving,” she said sadly, “True, our people live...but our culture is dying. We are like a stone the ocean beats against. With each passing year, a little more of us is worn away.”

“I wish there was somethin’ I could do…” Jamie murmured.

“I have brought you to this place to ask you for your help…” Satya said, “There is a mural here with writing all around the pictures.”

“Yeah, well, ya came to the right bloke,” he nodded, taking the staff and plunging it into the ground to cast light on the cool, dark stone, “Okay, let me see. Let's start with this column right here. Uh, well, this...uh…

Jamie trailed off, having glanced behind himself to see if she was looking on. He realized, as his face promptly exploded into scarlet, that she was untying her skirt.

“...uh...Satya...? Uh...heh...what are ya doin'?”

“You do swim, do you not?” she asked, throwing the fabric aside.

“Oh, I swim pretty girl. Pr-pretty good! Pretty good. Sw...good, swim good. Pretty good. I swim pretty good.”

Satya giggled, amused by his bumbling, before stepping down into the water.

“Good. It is a fair distance to where we are going.”

He quickly threw his tanktop, pants, and shoes off, following her in.

“Hey, you are talkin' to the belly flop champ at Camp Junkertown,” he said proudly, though his underwear decided to obnoxiously puff up when he entered the water, leaving him to shove it down embarrassedly as she laughed.

“Come on, we're - we're wastin’ time!” he said, diving down under the water. After a moment, he resurfaced, ears red as she looked him over with a smirk.

“Why don't _ya_ lead the way because...I have no idea where we're goin’.”

Satya took a big gulp of air and dove down, Jamie following suit. The stone steps leading down into the water continued under them, the light of her crystal bouncing and refracting onto the submerged architecture around them. She led him down, into the bowels of a sunken building where a small pocket of air at the top provided them some respite to catch their breath.

“Are you alright?” she asked him, grabbing his head to look him over. His hair had gone significantly flat from the water, an uncharacteristic look for him.

“Well, I didn't drown, so…”

“Good. Follow me!”

She sunk under the water again, taking him further into the dark and to a wall of iridescent mosaic tiles in the shape of a great star. Under it was Atlantean runes she pointed to, leaving Jamie to squint through his glasses to read them. He was thankful the water was not salty to burn his eyes, treading his arms and legs to stay in place as he read. He looked to her, and they swam back to the pocket.

“This is amazin’!” Jamie burst, gasping for air, “A complete history of Atlantis! It's just like Plato described it! Well, he was off on a few details, but -!”

“The light I saw. The star in the middle of the city,” Satya pressed, getting him focused, “What does the writing say about _that_?”

“I don't know yet. But we're gonna find out. Come on!”

He took a big gulp of oxygen and dove back down, following her to a new part of the enormous mural, where great stone men were depicted with their arms spread and energy emanating from their palms and all around them. The starry shape above was drawn with lines connecting right to their hearts, and surrounding the blue zigzags were depictions of boats shattering, warmongers and armies falling - almost as if, it was a protection from them…?

At the apex of the waterlogged temple was another depiction of the star, this time with clearly human Atlanteans with their arms raised to it in almost praise or worship. Again, lines from the centre of it connected to their chests. Then, it hit Jamison like a bus. He grabbed Satya’s wrist, pointing at the crystal pendant she had been holding for him as light, then realizing he could not speak to her like this, gestured back to their air pocket.

“The heart of Atlantis!” he exploded as they breached the surface of the water.

“What?”

“It's the heart of Atlantis! That's what the shepherd w-was talking about. It wasn't a star, it was - it was some kind of crystal - uh, like these!”

He held up her necklace, shaking it triumphantly.

“Don't ya get it? The power source I've been lookin’ for, the bright light ya remember, they're the same thing!”

“That cannot be…”

“It's what's keepin’ all these things - ya, _all_ of Atlantis alive.”

“Then where is it now?” she asked.

“I don't know, I don't know. You'd think somethin’ this important would have been in the Journal, but - unless...the missin’ page...”

He fell silent, knowing he had no more answers for her now. They looked to each other, eyebrows furrowed in a matching expression of consternation.

Jamison was the first to return to the grotto, gripping the stone steps and breathing hard. He blinked the water away from his eyes as he looked up, and felt a cold pang of dread rush through him when he saw Antonio was in front of him, sitting down above him before leaning in to make eye contact.

“You have a nice swim?” he said pleasantly, as Jamie realized all around him were the other members of the exploration team, all wielding weapons.

“...hey, guys, what's goin’ on?” Jamie sniffed, pushing his hair out of his face, “What's...what's with all the guns…?”

No answer.

“Guys…?”

Still nothing, though Hammond had a particularly uncomfortable grin. Jamison paused, then exhaled long and hard.

“I am SUCH an idiot…” he snapped, slamming his fist into the rock before standing up a little straighter, “This is just another treasure hunt fer ya. You're after the crystal!”

“Oh, you mean this?” Antonio purred, pulling a familiar scrap of parchment out of his boot. The missing page of the Journal.

“The heart of Atlantis…” Jamie muttered.

“Yeah. About that...I would've told you sooner, but it was strictly on a need-to-know basis, and, well, now you know!” Antonio continued, twiddling his gun, “I had to be sure you were one of us. Welcome to the club, son.”

He stretched his hand out to take Jamie’s.

“I'm no mercenary,” the blond spat, reeling back from the offered hand.

Before anyone could continue, Satya surfaced a few metres away, and was almost immediately yanked out hard by her hair. Before Jamison could jump to her defense, a good four barrels of rifles were immediately shoved in his face, forcing him back. Not that Satya really needed help, easily grabbing the head of her attacker and throwing him hard into the water. The others who tried to grab her found themselves kneed in the stomachs, her pushing one down hard and pulling her dagger out. Before she could swing it into his neck, though, it was shot out of her hand by Antonio, who glared at her over his pistol. Two other guards grabbed her by her arms and pulled her away, though not before she delivered another harsh kick to the crotch of the one on the ground.

“Mercenary?” he said, turning his attention back to Jamison, “I prefer the term ‘adventure capitalist’. Besides, you're the one who got us here. You led us right to the treasure chest.”

“Ya don't know what you're tamperin’ with, Antonio!” Jamison yelled, hauling himself fully out of the water.

“What's to know? It's big, it's shiny, it's gonna make us all rich.”

“Ya think it's some kind of a diamond, I thought it was some kind of a battery, but we're BOTH wrong. It's their _life force_ ,” Jamie tried to reason with him, “That crystal is the only thing keepin’ these people alive! Ya take that away, and they'll die!”

“Well, that changes things. Amélie, what do you think?”

She grabbed the page from his hand, looking it over with a smug smile.

“Knowing that...I'd double the price.”

“I was thinking triple.”

“Antonio, don't do this -!” Jamie pleaded, only to have his former friends shove yet more guns in his face to keep him back.

“Academics, you never want to get your hands dirty. Think about it - if you gave back every stolen artifact from a museum, you'd be left with an empty building. We're just providing a necessary service to the archeological community.”

“Not interested,” Jamie growled back.

“I got to admit, I'm disappointed. You're an idealist, just like your grandfather. Do yourself a favor, Jamison, don't be like him. For once, do the smart thing.”

Jamie kept a steely look in his eyes as he stared Antonio down, using all his willpower from hurling obscenities at the man who had just insulted his dear family.

“I really hate it when negotiations go sour...” Antonio muttered, snapping his fingers. Satya was thrown to the ground, the gun pointed at her cocking. Jamie gasped in horror as Antonio shoved the page in his face.

“Let’s try this again.”

* * *

The heavy stone doors to the throne room were suddenly blown open, quite literally. A sound of crumbling dust and skittering rubble could not mask heavy footsteps or the restrained Satya’s grunts of anger.

“Knock, knock,” Mako rumbled, twiddling a dynamite.

“Room service,” McCree echoed.

“Tell them to drop their weapons!” Amélie barked, holding her gun to Satya’s back as she twisted the princess’s arms, “NOW!

The king begrudgingly obliged, speaking in Atlantean to the two guards who silently let their glaives fall to the ground.

“Spread out! Search everywhere!” Amélie ordered as the traitors dispersed, tearing the waterlogged courtyard up.

“You're not applying yourself, son. There's got to be something else,” Antonio was pressuring Jamison, tugging him up by his tanktop and shoving the Journal into his chest.

“Well, there isn't,” he retorted, tugging his pants up over his damp underwear a bit, “It just says, ‘the heart of Atlantis lies in the eyes of her king’.”

“Well, then maybe Old King Cole here can help us fill in the blanks,” Antonio said, throwing Jamison down and marching over to King Nedakh, “How about it, chief? Where's the crystal chamber?”

“You will destroy yourselves,” the king replied darkly.

“Maybe I'm not being clear.”

Before anyone could stop him, Antonio delivered a hard punch to the king’s sternum, making Satya flinch with a harsh gasp as her father collapsed to the floor.

“ _Tum kameene ghrnit!_ ” she snarled.

“Antonio, this was _not_ a part of the plan!” Baptiste said balefully, kneeling down to support the king’s head only to get pushed out of the way.

“Plan's changed, doc,” Antonio mused, chewing on a toothpick as he plunked down on the ‘throne’ and put his feet up, knocking a bowl of fresh fruit to the floor, “I'd suggest you put a bandage on that bleeding heart of yours, it doesn't suit a mercenary.”

The king was hauled up, supported by his arms and forced to look up.

“Well, as usual, diplomacy has failed us. Now I'm gonna count to 10, and you're gonna tell me where the crystal is. One.”

He cocked his gun loudly, and even the others on the team like Hana and Mako looked uncomfortable.

“Two.”

Jamie made a shrill noise.

“Nine. T -!”

Antonio paused suddenly, looking down at the Journal in his hand, then up to the center of the pool of the throne room, at the shape made by the stepping stones. It spelled out an Atlantean letter A, only visible from where the king sat, with a steady drip of water from the ceiling at its centre.

“...the heart of Atlantis lies in the eyes of her king…? This is it! We’re in!”

He marched over to the center of the ‘A’, throwing the Journal to Jamison.

“Antonio, fer the last time, you've got to listen to me,” Jamie hissed, Ya don't have the slightest idea what this power is capable of!”

Amélie threw Satya into the water after them, giving her only a few seconds to rub her aching arms before she was taken hostage again.

“True, but I can think of a few countries who'd pay anything to find out,” the femme fatale said, digging her gun into Satya’s back again as the four of them approached the centre. As Antonio stepped forward, suddenly there came a rumbling beneath his feet, and a pedestal of rock began to sink down.

“Hurry, get on!” he barked, pulling Jamie down with him roughly as Amélie and Satya followed suit. The tower of stone sank into the earth, and as they were lowered into a great cavern, there it was. Hovering over a tranquil pool of water was an enormous glowing ball of energy, blue as the crystal around Satya’s neck, with carved masks floating around it. The eyes of the masks seemed to stare down at them, also glowing blue.

“Jackpot,” Antonio said, his voice echoing around the walls. There was a humming all around them that seemed to press against their eardrums as the masks rotated slowly around the crystalline heart, like prayers.

“Oh…” Satya breathed out, a tear running down her cheek, “The kings of our past…”

She fell to the ground, murmuring Atlantean psalms under her breath and pressing her forehead to the rock.

“Fawkes, tell her to wrap it up. We got a schedule to meet,” Antonio said dismissively, approaching the edge of the water. Amélie glanced at Jamison as he stared daggers at them both, then down at Satya with a somewhat amused look. Jamie begrudgingly obliged, kneeling down and placing a hand on her back.

“Um...Satya?”

She jumped at his touch before he helped her up.

“...I'm sorry.”

He knew the apology meant nothing. He had led them here, these monsters, and had only sped up the decline of the very ancient civilization he had hoped to preserve.

Antonio kicked a pebble into the water below the heart, and it immediately turned a dark red. Beams like searchlights suddenly extended from it, sweeping over the floor and walls as if looking for something. The humming seemed angrier now.

“Come on, let’s get this over with!” Amélie hissed, “I don’t like this place.”

All right, Fawkes, what's next?”

“Wh -?! Okay, there's a giant crystal hoverin’ 150 feet above our heads over a bottomless pit of water. Doesn't anythin’ surprise you?!”

“The only thing that surprises me is that you’re still talking and that thing's not on the truck yet. Now move it!”

As they bickered, one of the lights fell on Satya, and as it did, it turned back to blue. Her crystal suddenly began to hover off her neck, as if tugged upon by the great hovering heart.

“... _maata…_ ” she breathed softly, before her irises were consumed with soulless white.

“I don't know how to move it. I don't even know what's holdin’ it up there!” Jamie was yelling, when both men fell quiet. Lids heavy, Satya was striding past them as if in a dreamlike state, never unlocking eyes with the glowing ball above. When Jamie tried to jump after her, Antonio put his hand out, stopping him short.

“Talk to me, Fawkes,” he said as she stopped at the edge of the water, “What's happening?”

“Look, all it says here is that the crystal is...alive somehow. It - I don't know how to explain it. It's their deity. It's their power source.”

“Speak English, professor.”

“They're part of it. It's a part of them. Look, I'm doin’ the best I can here!”

“Well, do better.”

“Oh, I know! Why don't _you_ translate, and I'll wave the gun around?!”

“ **_Sab kuchh achchha hoga, Jamison Fawkes. Dar nahin hona._ **”

It was Satya speaking, but her voice seemed to be mingled with hundreds of others as she turned to them. Jamison’s mouth was dry as he processed what she said.

_All will be well. Jamison Fawkes. Be not afraid._

“...what did she say?”

“I-I don't know. I...I didn't catch it.” Jamie lied.

She turned again to face the crystal, then stepped out into the water.

No, not into.

_Onto._

She strode out atop the water, not sinking at all, as the three others stared in shock. Satya was weightless, striding across the surface like a goddess, driven by the heart’s bidding. She reached its reflection, standing beneath it and staring up with those eerie eyes, as the masks floated up at an angle. All the blue searchlights in the room converged upon Satya’s necklace in a blinding flash of light, and her eyes fell shut. Her hair flew about like it was caught in a great wind.

Then, she began to float.

Her feet disconnected from the water and her body rose with gentle rotations into the air like the blue light enveloped her, pulling her up, up, up into the heart. She was swallowed up into it as the masks began to spin around it, faster and faster and faster, kicking up a great gust of air as the crystal grew only brighter. It was only when the masks finally slowed to a stop that they could see what she had become. Her body crackled with holy light, and her skin - no, her whole body - was smooth and blue. Like she herself was carved from diamond.

Satya had become the heart of Atlantis.

Amélie’s eyes were wide, and even Antonio looked perturbed. Her light reflected in Jamie’s glasses.

Slowly, Satya’s body descended, hovering a few inches above the water which grew artificially smooth under her now, as if she was surrounded by an energy that refused to let it near her. Her hair was endlessly whipping about.

Jamie made a desperate attempt to run to her side, only for Antonio to catch him and pull him back.

“Hold your horses, lover boy.”

“...Satya!” he called to her. The closed eyes snapped open, but there was simultaneously too much and not enough life in them. They were staring expanses of pale blue light, vacant of emotion. Like a goddess, but not a human.

“...Satya…!”

She began to walk towards them, that metallic, godly humming only growing louder.

As she strode forward, the masks crashed down around her, vacant of whatever energy had kept them afloat, their eyes now dull and dead especially compared to hers. As they fell, the water that erupted into the air did not touch her, a protective circle seeming to surround her. Nothing could come close to her as she made it to land.

Antonio reached a hand out.

“No, don’t! Don’t touch her!” Jamie urged, and for once Antonio obliged, taking his hand away.

Of course, he did not let her be.

She was packaged up into a great metal box, sealed shut with heavy nuts and bolts that Hana screwed into place. When she saw how Jamison glared at her, she turned away, pouting.

Inside her prison, Satya - or the heart - closed her eyes again, freezing the interior and blocking any vision in through the circular window.

“Sergeant, keep those people back!” the squad leader ordered.

“You heard him, step back. I'm warning you!”

Jamison was shoved in with the Atlanteans who had gathered to watch their princess and long-lost life force be taken away.

“So...I guess this is how it ends, huh?” Jamie growled lowly, “Fine. Ya win. You're wipin’ out an entire civilization, but, hey...you'll be rich.”

He looked over his old friends, narrowing his eyes at them.

“Congratulations, Hana. Guess ya and yer dad will be able to open up that second garage after all.”

She did not look at him, slamming the truck door.

“And, Mako, y-ya can start a whole chain of flower shops. I'm sure your family's gonna be very proud.”

Mako shot him a forlorn look, but said nothing. Moira and McCree peered at him through the windows as Hammond stepped beside them.

“But that's what it's all about, right? _Money_.”

“Get off your soapbox, Fawkes. You've read Darwin, it's called natural selection,” Antonio chuckled, “We're just helping it along.”

“Commander, we're ready,” Amélie said.

“Yeah, give me a minute. I know I'm forgetting something, I got the cargo, the crystal, the crew...ohhh, yeah.”

He turned, delivering a fierce punch right into Jamie’s nose, launching him a few feet amidst gasps from the crowd. His glasses flew up into the air, and his treasured photo of his grandfather was thrown out of his satchel when he landed.

“Look at it this way, son,” Antonio said, catching the glasses and deliberately stepping on the photo to shatter the frame, “You were the man who discovered Atlantis, and now you're part of the exhibit.”

He threw the glasses down at Jamie, who caught them as he wiped his bloody lip, red continuing to trickle down his chin. Hana, Mako, Hammond, and the others looked over at Jamie as he sat up, fishing the photo out from the broken glass and looking down at it dismally.

“Let's move, people,” Antonio said loudly, returning to his car. Hana gripped the door of her truck, unable to shut it.

“That was an order, not a suggestion, let’s go!” Amélie barked. Hana shut the door quickly and put her hands on the wheel, but she could not will herself to drive forward.

After a moment, she sighed long and hard, before kicking the door open. She actually kicked it so hard that it slammed shut again, forcing her to open it a second time. She hopped down, gathering herself up with a deep inhale, then marched over to Jamie as the others looked on in surprise. She slid her hands under his arm, gently pulling him up and stroking his back before shooting a look at the others as Jamie rubbed his face.

After a pause, Mako joined her, gently resting his big hands on Jamie’s thin shoulders. McCree, who had been leaning out of the truck window, hopped down as well, sharing a look with Hammond before they joined Jamie.

Moira took a long drag from her cigarette, then flicked it away.

“We’re all gonna die,” she muttered, before obliging to stand with them too. It was almost a mirror image of the photo of Grandpa Fawkes and the same crew from years prior.

“Aw, you can’t be serious!” Antonio groaned, looking at them in his rear-view.

“This is wrong and you know it!” Hana snapped.

“We're this close to our biggest payday ever, and you pick _now_ of all times to grow a conscience?!”

“We've done a lot of things we're not proud of,” Mako muttered, counting on his fingers, “Robbin’ graves, plunderin’ tombs, double parkin’...but, nobody got hurt. Well, maybe somebody got hurt, but nobody we _knew_.”

“Well, if that's the way you want it, fine. More for me!” Antonio snorted, getting back into his truck, “P.T. Barnum was right.”

The convoy began to drive away, moving single-file over the bridge that they had entered the city with barely 24 hours prior. As they moved away, the heart with them growing further and further, the endless waterfall over the lip of the continent slowed to a trickle, no longer washing into the sweltering lava to generate steam. The dark purple-pink clouds rumbled with sad thunder as the light of the necklaces of all the indigenous Atlanteans faded into a bare glow.

“We can’t let him do this -!” Jamie burst, trying to chase after the cars.

“Wait a second!” Mako said, grabbing him and pulling him back.

Barely had he smoke when the bridge suddenly began to blow - dynamite strapped under the wooden planks exploded sequentially, severing the only way in or out of Atlantis. Jamie yelped, throwing himself to the ground as singed debris fell around them and down into the magma that was steadily growing hotter.

“...okay, now you can go,” Mako finished, as Jamie exhaled miserably.

“Jamie! You better get up here!” called a voice. Baptiste, the first defector, was calling from the throne room. Jamie obliged, running to join him as he watched the medic listen to the king’s chest with his stethoscope.

“How's he doin’...?” Jamie ventured.

“Not good, I'm afraid,” Baptiste sighed, “Internal bleeding. There's nothing more I can do.”

Jamison rubbed his temples miserably, looking over the supine king on his bed.

“What a nightmare...and I brought it here.”

“Ah, don't go beating yourself up,” Baptiste said, “He's been after that crystal since Iceland.”

“The crystal...Baptiste, that's it! These, these crystals - they have some sort of healin’ energy!” Jamie said, taking the king’s necklace with some renewed hope, “I've - I've seen it work -!”

“No,” King Nedakh said, resting his hand on Jamie’s, “Where is my daughter?”

“Well, s-she...she...mmm…”

Jamie could not answer.

“She has been chosen...like her mother before her.”

“What?”

“In times of danger, the crystal will choose a host...one of royal blood, to protect itself, and its people. It will accept no other.”

Jamie knelt beside him.

“W-wait, wait a minute. _Choose?_ So this thing is alive?”

“In a way. The crystal thrives on the collective emotions of all who came before us.

Jamie thought back to the many masks circling the heart, lifting the king’s pendant to look at it closer.

“In return, it provides power...longevity...protection. As it grew...it developed a consciousness of its own.”

He coughed, taking the crystal from Jamie.  
“In my arrogance...I sought to use it as a weapon of war, but its power proved too great to control. It overwhelmed us...and led to our destruction.”

Suddenly, the great cataclysm made all the more sense to Jamison. How Atlantis had been consumed by the sea, and yet made itself a pocket of life. The crystal had been its doom and its savior all in one.

“That's why you hid it beneath the city, to keep history from repeatin’ itself.”

“And to prevent Satya from suffering the same fate as my beloved wife.”

“What do ya mean? Wh - what's gonna happen to Satya?”

“If she remains bonded to the crystal...she could be lost to it forever.”

Jamie hugged himself, afraid.

“...the love of my daughter is all I have left,” King Nedakh rumbled, “My burden would have become hers when the time was right. But now...it falls to you.”

He removed his necklace, holding it out to Jamie who stared in shock.

“Me...?”

He took it gingerly, feeling the king’s hand grip his.

“Return the crystal. Save Atlantis. Save my daughter.”

His hold on Jamie went limp as his last breath left him - the king was gone.

The two sentries knelt down in mourning respect before him as Jamison scooted away, rubbing his arms miserably. He sunk down onto a rock, pressing his forehead to his knees.

“So…” Baptiste said after a moment of silence, looking to Jamie as he packed his supplies, “What’s it gonna be?”

“...excuse me?”

“I followed you in, and I'll follow you out. It's your decision.”

Jamie looked up, glaring at him.

“Oh, _my_ decision? Well, I think we've seen how effective me decisions have been,” he spat, standing up and pulling the Journal out of his satchel, “Let's recap. I lead a band of plunderin’ vandals to the greatest archeological find in recorded history, thus enablin’ the kidnap and-or murder of the royal family, not to mention personally deliverin’ the most powerful force known to man into the hands of a mercenary nutcase who's probably gonna sell it to the Kaiser!”

He threw the Journal to the ground in fury.

“Have I left anythin’ out?!”

“...well, you did set the camp on fire and drop us down that big hole.”

“Cheers! Thank ya very much!” Jamie hissed, throwing his hands up into the air before marching over to the stone steps and plunking down again.

“...of course,” Baptiste continued, picking up the Journal and dusting it off gently, “It's been my experience that when you hit bottom...the only place left to go is up.”

“Who told ya that.”

“A fellow by the name of Thaddeus Fawkes.”

Jamie looked up a bit, opening his palm and letting the dim light of the pendant glimmer against his face. After a moment, he steeled his gaze, throwing the necklace up a bit, catching it, and then marching out of the throne room.

“Where are you going?” Hana asked when she saw him exit the blown-out doors.

“I'm goin’ after Antonio.”

“Jamie, that's crazy!”

“I didn't say it was the _smart_ thing...but it is the right thing.”

Hana pouted, sighing exaggeratedly as they watched him descend into the square.

“Come on. We better make sure he doesn't hurt himself.”

The group trailed after him as Jamie clambered onto another one of the vehicles, this one having been left behind in the corner of the plaza.

“...Jamie, what do you think you’re doing?” Hana asked, watching him climb up.

“Just follow me lead.”

He followed the instructions from before, pressing his hand to the inscription pad and turning the crystal in the slot. The fish came to life, hovering into the air much to the surprise of the others.

“Wow. I'm impressed,” Moira said, not sounding impressed at all.

“It's simple. All ya got to do -”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Hana said dismissively, climbing up with him, “Shut up, we get it, okay?”

“No, no, wait -!”

She slammed her hand on the pad, and the fish promptly jerked and flew backwards into the stone wall, attracting the attention of the other Atlanteans nearby.

“Gently!” Jamie said, swatting at her, “Just gently!”

“Hey, Jamie, you got somethin’ sporty?” Mako asked, “You know, like a tuna?”

“How is this done?” one of the Atlanteans asked, coming over.

“All ya gotta do is use the crystals. Satya showed me.”

He hopped down, finding another vehicle - this one a hammerhead shark covered in vines.

“Half-turn right, quarter-run back. Keep yer hand on the pad.”

He showed everyone how it was done, and they scattered to go find their own fish.

“Saddle up, partners!” McCree said, grinning and twirling his revolver, “Bring jerky and ammo.”

“Ooo, I’m so excited!” Hammond purred, bouncing in place on his.

“All right, this is it!” Jamie yelled, rising up into the air as his little army followed suit, putting his fist up, “We're gonna rescue the princess! We're gonna save Atlantis! Or we're gonna die tryin’! Now let's DO IT!”

The crowds watched them fly over the market and piers, cheering and waving. All their hope rested in the tiny armada of flying fish.

* * *

In the hollow volcano where the group had crashed down prior, the nefarious men were plotting their escape. Sending a flare-like explosive hurtling up the shaft, it crashed against the roof, blowing open a hole to allow them passage to the surface. As rocks fell down, Antonio looked up at the pillar of light with a smug grin.

“I love it when I win.”

Meanwhile, the team of defectors was hurtling towards the bowels of the volcano through the foggy caverns.

“Okay, here's the plan!” Jamie yelled, “ We're gonna come in low and fast, and take ‘em by surprise!”

“Well, I've got news for you, Jamie!” Hana replied, holding onto Baptiste’s shirt on their shared fish, “Antonio is never surprised, and he's got a _lot_ of guns!”

“Great, well, do ya have any suggestions?”

“Yeah. Don't get shot!” Mako snarked.

Ahead, they could see an enormous red zeppelin expanding in the hollow chamber - like a hot-air balloon, it was the thieves’ shot to the surface. Antonio was at the bottom, chaining the crystal box to the bottom of the ascending zeppelin.

“There they are!” Jamie shouted, pointing.

“We've got company!” Antonio thundered.

Eruptions of gunfire and arrows from both sides echoed in the cave, mingled with grenade explosions and shouts. Though the Atlantean army had the initial advantage with flight, soon the aggressors were using miniature fighting planes to join them in the air for a more close matchup. 

“Take her up!” Antonio barked as he got onto the metal grating platform surrounding the cylindrical balloon.

“Hooley dooley!” Jamie yelped, ducking to avoid bullets, “Ya told me he only had guns!”

“What I said was he's never surprised!” Hana retorted, hair whipping about.

The machinegun station was firing relentlessly at Mako, who was holding his hands up over his face. He blindly slammed his hand down on another part of the fish, and suddenly a laser burst out of the mouth of it, shooting down and blowing up a part of the convoy including the firing squad who had been aiming at him. He blinked in surprise, staring at his hand, then grinned under his mask.

“Okay, _now_ things are gettin’ good,” he chuckled.

“Mako! Heads up!” Jamie called, “We can't let them reach the top of that shaft!”

Everytime previously when they had tried to get close, the onslaught of mini-planes and grenades had kept them back, but with his new lasers, Mako easily laid waste to the plane launch station and the most annoying of their harriers. McCree was able to fly in after, shooting down the stragglers while Moira boredly took some pictures.

“Mako, new plan!” Jamie said, catching up to him again as the bigger Aussie shook the soot from his hair, “Ya and me, we're gonna be decoys! Hana, Baptiste, fly up underneath that thing and cut her loose!”

“We’re on it!” Baptiste nodded, giving him a thumbs up. As Jamie and Mako darted around the zeppelin, annoying them, he and Hana sped underneath to the hanging prison.

“Lieutenant!” Antonio bellowed, pointing at Mako as he came close. Amélie obliged, firing her sniper rifle at them as they continued to distract.

Hana below was furiously trying to cut Satya loose using Baptiste’s bonesaw, moving it so fast sparks were flying out of the chain.

“I thought you said this thing could cut through a femur in 28 seconds!” she screeched in frustration.

“Less talk, more saw!”

As Jamie narrowly avoided gunfire from Antonio’s minigun, Mako snuck up behind and used his laser to zap it from existence, giving the furious commander an amused salute. As Antonio looked around for another weapon, his eyes fell on Baptiste and Hana below.

“Looks like somebody's working overtime!” he said, as Amélie threw her ammo-less rifle aside. She instead opted to free one of the hanging bombs, it exploding right by Hana and sending her swinging wildly. Even so, the engineer kept sawing furiously.

“Come on, girl. Time's up,” Baptiste said, grabbing Hana by her overalls and yanking her to safety as they flew off.

Jamison rubbed his hands together, knowing what he had to do.

“Alright, Jamie, any last words?” he asked himself, before shaking his head hard, “Yeah. I really wish I had a better idea than this -!”

He steered his shark around, standing up and jumping off right before it crashed into one of the supplementary balloons. He hung for dear life to one of the ropes that were strung around the main one in a lattice, kicking his legs wildly as they began to sink.

“We’re losing altitude!” Antonio yelled, “Lighten the load!”

Amélie threw some barrels of fuel off, wiping her brow as he came up behind her.

“That's it, unless someone wants to jump.”

Before she could blink, she felt his hands grab her arms.

“Ladies first.”

He threw her off with a yelp, but she was smarter than that, grabbing hold of the metal ring above the propeller. She swung her body back up, delivering a hard kick right into Antonio’s face with her heel as she landed nimbly back on the grate.

“You said we were in this together!” Amélie snarled, delivering yet more kicks to his jaw as her ponytail came undone, black hair whipping about wildly, “You promised me a percentage!”

This time, he caught her shoe with his hand.

“Next time, get it in writing!”

And with that, he threw her off again, too far this time to grab hold of any support. She screamed as she plummeted to the ground below.

“Nothing personal!” he called after her smugly.

Jamie managed to loosen one of the ropes from the lattice, using it to swing down to Antonio with a war cry of his own. The two of them smashed together, falling off the platform and sliding down more ropes to the propeller. Jamie was strung backwards over the metal, his head just inches from the spinning blades.

“Well, I have to hand it to you,” Antonio spat, standing up on the thin metal they had between them, You're a bigger pain in the neck than I would have ever thought possible!”

Jamie pulled himself up, trying to punch Antonio in his stupid face, only for his wrist to get grabbed and his own fist to be shoved into his own nose. He felt himself be kicked off, smashing into the guardrail and flying down. The only reason he did not join Amélie at the bottom of the shaft was because the rail got stuck in between the blades, halting their spinning. He clung to the metal, palms burning.

“I consider myself an even-tempered man! It takes a lot to get under my skin… but congratulations - you just won the solid-gold Pachimari!”

Jamie managed to grab the chains connecting Satya’s box to the zeppelin, a meager improvement to the suspended rail. Below him, Amélie was stirring, sprawled against the hard rock. She managed to roll over, gasping in pain, and pull her flare gun out of her back pocket. She refused to let anyone get away with this.

“Nothing...personal…” she hissing, before pulling the trigger. Even with her injuries, she was a brilliant marksman. The flare flew straight up, connecting with the main balloon, and blowing an enormous hole in it. There was no way they could make any more height now, something Antonio knew very well as fire rained down around him. He smashed open the glass case with the fire axe inside, but instead of using it for any safety purposes, he only used the opportunity to climb down to where Jamie was holding the chains for dear life. Antonio swung the axe about, trying to take off Jamison’s head with a feral look in his eyes, as the Aussie desperately evaded him, sliding down to grip the slide of the box.

“Tired, Mister Fawkes?!” he teased psychotically, slamming the axe down hard as Jamie barely managed to avoid it. The blade had blown apart the window, a loud hum filling the air as blue-tinged shards of glass fell out. Jamie grabbed the largest one, iridescent sparks jumping from it.

“Aw, that's a darn shame, because I'm just getting warmed up!”

He felt a meaty hand wrap around his neck, yanking him into the air with nowhere to run. The axe was ready to swing into his neck, but he was faster, swiping the glass shard against Antonio’s bare arm. Instead of cutting like regular glass, it left a glowing blue wound. Antonio cried out in pain, dropping him, as suddenly his hand was consumed by deep blue crystal growths. It expanded over his body with eerie red veins, even as he tried to scrub it off, devouring his skin and hair. Only his eyes and mouth were different, turning yellow and swimming like magma. A demonic shriek burst out of him as Jamie climbed up the chains to a safe vantage point.

The guardrail had come loose from the rotors, leaving Jamie to cling to the metal rung Amélie had grabbed earlier, cowering under the blades and looking back to the statue of Antonio.

“...thank heaven…!” he gasped, panting hard.

Barely had he spoke when he felt something roughly grab the ring, climbing up to him. Antonio was still alive! Jamie screamed and reared back in horror, then caught himself again, swinging the rung like a seesaw in the process. With his body pushing it down, Antonio was sent up, and his newfound crystal body shattered into a million pieces upon contact with the spinning propeller blades. It was as if he had become a bomb in the process, exploding in a ball of evil red light and blowing the chains apart. The box with Satya inside crashed down the last few metres to the ground as Jamie followed suit, the two rolling down the dirt and rock before coming to a stop in a heap. Jamie smashed his head into the metal side, crying out in pain and rubbing his scalp. Seeing stars, he glanced up and realized the remains of the balloon were coming down right for them in a blazing ball of fire.

“Oh, great -!”

He turned quickly, throwing his full weight against the box to roll it away, before jumping after it as the fire fell behind them. His hair was singed and his body ached as he looked up, blinking deliriously.

The others were landing around him, rushing to his side to see if he was alright. The inferno of the wreckage was billowing heat all around them, and there was a sinister rumbling. The ground around them began to crack apart, exposing ribbons of lava underfoot.

“...the volcano…!” Hammond said in a mixture of awe and fear, “She awakes!”

“Hey, I had nothin’ to do with this,” Mako said, waving with a lit dynamite before realizing what he was doing and quickly putting it out.

“This here would be a good place not to be,” McCree said.

“No, wait! We gotta get her back or the whole city will die!” Jamie said, frantically hooking a long loose chain to Satya’s prison.

“And if we don't get out of here, _we'll_ die!” Hana countered, grabbing the chain from him and darting over to Mako’s fish, the two of them securing it to the tail.

“It's the only way to reverse this! Just do it!”

They obliged, all three climbing up and taking off hurriedly with the hope to carry it behind them, only to hear a creak followed by a long snap. The chain had come loose, leaving it behind.

Jamie refused, grabbing the chain and jumping down into the mess of steam geysers and lava fissures.

“Jamie, NO -!” Hana called after him, but he was not listening. He evaded the magma and tied it around the entirety of the prison this time, securing it against itself and holding it in place with his hands.

“GO!” he shouted, and they took off, not a moment too soon. Waves of lava were chasing them as they desperately flew back the way they came, Jamie strung on the box and holding onto it for dear life. They barely made it out of the entrance to Altantis before the hot tsunami chased them, sending debris raining down after them as it poured into the preexisting magma pools below.

Jamie and the box were quickly lowered as the Atlanteans gathered around them. One ran over, giving Jamie a spear with which to pry the doors open.

“The fissure! It is about to eject its pyroclastic fury!” Hammond squeaked, jumping up and down and pointing as the wall of plant life and rock strained against the onslaught of lava leaking out.

“Jamie, Hammond says the wall's gonna blow!” Baptiste translated urgently.

Jamie strained hard with the spear, and suddenly the metal sheets blew apart, hovering around the eye-searingly bright crystal inside. That humming was back, pressing on their ears as the fusion of Satya and the heart slowly moved. She waved the metal aside as the carvings on the ground below them began to fill with holy blue light. It expanded over the entirety of the city, reaching down into the depths of the hole where the masks were. They came to life, eyes aglow as they hovered up, bursting through the ground. Jamie stumbled back, narrowly avoiding them as they and she flew up into the air like a great beacon of some kind. As he looked up at her, watching the stone masks spin and began a great ball of blue and white light, he realized he was looking at the very star in the middle of the city she had seen as a child.

A beam of light sprang out of the heart, flying diagonally into the water. It made contact with a sunken sculpture which Jamie realized was not a sculpture at all, but one of the stone guardians he had seen in the mural. It began to move, slowly standing up with eyes glowing like the masks. The shadow it cast over them was enormous. Still more beams of light rained down around them, waking other guardians long since forgotten. They rose from the water, from under growth, from below sculptures, standing upright and marching to the edge of the continent. Moira took the time to snap a photo.

The lava was coming hard now, blowing out of any hole it could find. The rubble it launched did not stop the guardians even when it struck them directly, they merely continued their march until all were in place. Then, they began to clap, striking their hands together and forming a great forcefield from their palms. Each of them made a piece that joined together, becoming a great bubble of writhing light that enveloped the city from the bottom up. The flying rocks sizzled to a stop against the barrier, before finally the wall could bear no more. Lava burst out, flowing unrestrained out and over them, but the field kept them safe. It swam over the bubble like orange juice, swallowing it up, when another great flash of light pierced their eyes. The crystal glowed bright enough to blind, and then the lava was still, frozen in place amidst crackles.

Silence.

Then, swirls of blue light began to carve themselves out of the petrified lava. The rocks fell to the ground, releasing their hold, as the guardians finally lowered the barrier. Water was flowing off the newly carved sides of the continent now, and steamy fog billowed into the air as it met the still-hot magma below. And above them, through the clouds, a beam of light was bearing down.

Slowly, Satya was returned to them. Her body was no longer crystalline, though her hair still waved about. Slowly, Jamie approached where she was descending, reaching his arms out to catch her dreamy body as it was lowered the last few feet. Only when the beam disappeared did she relax, her hair falling down and her slumping against him with a sigh. After a moment, she opened her eyes, blinking in confusion.

“...Jamie…?” she said softly. She looked at him, smiling a bit, then realized she had something in her hand. She looked down at her palm, realizing she was holding the childhood bracelet she had lost - the one her mother had held onto as she was taken up by the crystal before. It glittered, tiny in her hand.

She looked up at Jamie, then fell upon him, hugging him tightly and burying her face in his chest. He embraced her back, burying her face in her hair.

As they slowly unfurled, he looked up, and realized that something had changed, visible now that the fog was clearing. He looked to her, gesturing with his head for her to see. Satya followed his gaze, before a wide smile stretched across her face.

The two of them, followed by the others, all gathered at the lip of the square, looking out over a new, and yet also familiar, Atlantis. New life had been breathed into it from the crystal’s touch, the guardians lining the outskirts, the buildings free of overgrowth, water flowing freely.

Slowly, Satya moved her hand over to Jamie, and he followed suit. They intertwined their fingers, finding comfort in each other’s touch, as they looked out at the horizon.

* * *

Eventually, the others had to return to the surface.

A particularly large flying ship had been found, this one more akin to a plane and shaped like a narwhal. The mouth was open, carved with steps leading into a comfortable interior that various Atlanteans were loading with treasures and gifts as Satya bid them farewell.

“Atlantis will honor your names forever,” she was saying, placing a crystal necklace around Mako’s neck just like the others had, “I only wish there was more we could do for you.”

“Uh, you know, thanks anyway but…” Mako said, looking behind him at the immense amount of gold and jewels, “I think we're good.”

“They'll take you as far as the surface,” Jamie nodded.

“We are really gonna miss you, Jamie,” Hana said, smiling wide.

“You know, I'm gonna reopen the flower shop,” Mako said, giving Jamison a big hug, “And I'm gonna think of you guys every single day! ...Monday through Friday, Saturday until two. Sunday...I'm gonna take Sunday off probably, and…maybe I'll go in for a couple of hours, you know. But August…I'm gonna take August.”

Jamie shook his head affectionately, watching Mako muse.

“I ain't so good at speechifyin', but I wanted you to have this,” McCree said sheepishly, handing Jamie a big flagon of sticky lard, “It's the bacon grease from the whole trip.”

As ridiculous as it was, Jamie felt honored by the gesture.

“McCree, l…”

The cowboy waved him away with his hat, clearly not so good at goodbyes. In his place, Hana sprang on Jamie from behind, giving him a big kiss on the cheek. She raised a fist up as if to poke him in the head, and he naturally raised his hand up defensively.

“Ah! Two for flinching!” she teased, gently punching him in the arm, “See you, Jamie.”

She gave him a big salute that turned into a nose boop.

“Ey, Jamie!” Hammond cackled, standing with his arms spread wide. Jamie made a wheezy laugh, wrinkling his nose.

“Oho...uh...Hammond! Wow. Hey, well...good-bye, Hammond.”

He gave the shorter Aussie some headpats and quickly moved away.

“Now, you sure you want to stay?” Baptiste asked, “There's a hero's welcome waiting for the man who discovered Atlantis.”

“Ah, I don't think the world needs another hero. Besides, I hear there's an openin’ down here for an expert in gibberish.”

“Well, you take good care of yourself, Jamison Fawkes.”

He held his hand out as if to shake.

“Yeah. Ya too, Baptiste.”

Jamie reached his hand out only to get swept into a bone-crushing hug.

“Come here!”

Jamie laughed.

“Baptiste, uh, before ya go, could ya -?”

He pointed at his neck.

“No problem.”

Baptiste twisted Jamie’s head back and forth like he had done at the camp, relieving tense muscles.

“Ahh, cheers.”

“Ha! Oh, you're getting a bill.”

“Can we go home now?” Moira grumbled.

“Come on, y'all. Let's get one last shot in front of the fish!” Baptiste said, handing the camera to one of the Atlanteans as they all grouped up together on the treasure pile.

“Say _paneer!_ ”

“ _Paneer!_ ”

* * *

The picture was cut off at the top.

Of course.

Reinhardt chuckled when he saw it, before looking over the team - or, what was left of it. They had turned their treasures into quite the handsome sums of money, and their new posh clothes certainly reflected it. Hana had Jamie’s cat on her lap, stroking her.

“Now, let's go over it again,” he said, “Just so we got it straight. You didn't find anything?”

“Nope,” Mako mused, “Just a lot of rocks, and fish...little fish. Sponges.”

Reinhardt looked over a picture of them all flying on the fish vehicles.

“What happened to Amélie?”

“Well, we lost her when a flamin’ zeppelin came down on her -!” McCree began bombastically, only to get rapped over the head by Moira, “Uh - missin’.”

“That's right. And Antonio?”

“Nervous breakdown,” Baptiste said as Hammond squirmed in his sweatervest, “You could say he went all to pieces.”

“In fact, you could say he was transamorgafied and then busted into a zillion -!” McCree started again, but cleared his throat when he saw Moira glaring, “Ahem. He's missin’, too.”

“What about Jamison?”

“Went down with the sub,” Hana said cheekly, tickling Mitzi under her chin. Before anyone else could speak up, there was an uncomfortable noise as a now nude Hammond buried himself into the dirt of a flowerpot.

“Lord give me strength,” Baptiste muttered.

“I'm going to miss that boy,” Reinhardt sighed, looking at a picture of him together with Satya, holding hands, “At least he's in a better place now.”

He felt something lumpy under the photo. It was a tiny package, with ‘To Reinhardt, From Jamie’ on it. Surprised, Reinhardt untied the string, and a bright blue glow spread over his face. Inside was a crystal necklace, packaged in the very photo of little Jamie with his grandfather.

‘Dear Mister Wilhelm, I hope this piece of proof is enough for you! It sure convinced me! Thanks, from both of us. Jamison Fawkes’ read the note inside, written directly onto the picture.

Eyes wet, Reinhardt donned the necklace, smiling down at it.

* * *

Atlantis had mostly recovered from the loss and return of the heart, but there was still one piece missing. Jamie, now tattooed and wearing far more traditional Atlantean clothing, had just finished it. He stepped back, letting Satya, in her new queenly garb, step forward to put the finishing touch. She gently blew on her crystal pendant and touched it to the stone. The carvings began to glow, and the rock sculpture levitated up, ascending into the sky.

The carved mask of King Nedakh went on to join the others in the sky.

Satya tugged at Jamie’s arm, the two bolting off and climbing up the towers to get a good look as it joined the other kings of their past. The wind whipped through their hair as they tightly held hands and watched it join the others circling around the crystal at the apex of the city.

There was a lot of work to be done, for sure. But the lost empire of Atlantis was still there, hidden beneath the earth, safe from prying eyes and greedy hands.

Alive.

**Author's Note:**

> Any comments/kudos are appreciated greatly.  
> I hope you enjoyed this! I love the Atlantis story, and if you haven't watched it before, please give it a look! It's criminally underrated.
> 
> Follow http://tiefling-notebook.tumblr.com/ for more content!  
> (Main blog: http://tired-tiefling.tumblr.com/)


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